Identity Chrisis
by xbballbolin
Summary: It has been said that key moments in our lives will forever define us, and lead us to the path that will take us to our eventual destination. What happens when you're forced off your path? Will you fight to stay on path or create a new one for yourself?
1. Home Is Where The Heart Is

Alright, here's a few facts that you need to know before the story starts.

-After his death, Chris didn't just fade away. He faded to up there.  
-The general time frame is the tail end of season 7 *Death becomes them* and then goes into a season 8 complete rewrite.  
-Everything in season 7 happened to the Halliwells except for everything in season 7 with Chris was with Melinda.  
-Billie is still Paige's charge.  
-Christy doesn't have as big a role in my story (nor should she have in actual Charmed lol) [instead of being kidnapped as a kid, she got murdered by the triad.  
-This is definitely a Chrillie story so if you don't like it don't read.  
-The Ultimate power is Chris and Billie  
-Billie's first demon wasn't in 8x01 (She's been hunting for three months.)  
- I do not own Charmed

Home. Noun. Four letters. One Syllable. It has been said that home is where the heart is. For Christopher Perry Halliwell, now known as Ben Hall- which means son from the man0r, home used to be so much more than a single syllable. Because once upon a time, he actually had a home. It was the safest, warmest place he'd ever known. Then his home got taken away as well as the inhabitance.

Once he traveled back, Chris began to believe no matter how far we roam, how long we travel, we end up where we begin because home is where the heart is. Now the empty nomad believes all the more because he left his heart in a Victorian home located at 1329 Prescott Street...

_Leo: Hey. I'm here now. You can…hold on, okay? Hold on…hold on. I'm here. You can hold on, okay? Don't give up, okay?_

_Chris: You either._

The twenty-two year old's eyes shoot open and for a surreal moment, Ben thinks he's back on that bed with blood pooling beneath him and his father by his side. Panicking, he nearly screamed out for Leo but when he tried to push himself up off his bed he took in his surroundings. The warm hued environment of his parent's bedroom was long gone, replaced by the cold, sleek, modern styled bedroom.

Ben: Get a hold of yourself, Halliwe—Hall.

He curses himself for his almost slip up and untangles himself from his sheet cocoon. It'd been a year since he was "acclimated back into society" as the Elders put it. It'd been a year since he "died", Melinda Halliwell was born in his place, and they told him he actually erased himself in a round about way. Now he's a whitelighter with the assignment of discovering himself.

_Chris: So what? I become a whitelighter as a reward with the string that I keep my distance from the Halliwells? That's not fair. They're my family, for Christ's sake!  
Zola: Technically not.  
Chris: What do you mean technically not?  
Zola: I'm saying that at this very moment Melinda Christina Halliwell is being born. She's just like you… Well, except for the obvious differences.  
Chris: Oh that's just great.  
Zola: You got what you wanted. You saved Wyatt and gave your family a fighting chance.  
Chris: I don't see why I can't stay on as their whitelighter then. I mean, the future's already changed anyway, right?  
Zola: You're not ready for charges yet, Chris. To help others you've got to help yourself, first._

He remembers following their protocol and forming an identity for himself. The moment the elders let him reestablish himself on Earth, he snuck over to the Halliwell mansion to get a peek at the family and see if they were doing okay. From outside their window, he saw his mother holding Melinda in her arms with a smile on her face. She looked… peaceful.

And it was in that moment that he realized that baby has something that the baby version of himself wouldn't have had. Melinda Christina Halliwell has a fresh start. She won't merge with him at 22 and be forced to deal with the memories of his version of the future. She had a chance. They all did and he'd be worse than Lord Wyatt if he was selfish enough to squander it.

The thought of going for a run- more like trying to outrun his past- pops into his head and the thought quickly turns into action… But if there's one thing the whitelighter knew better than anything is that you can't keep running forever. Even the world's fastest man can't outrun his past… especially on the one year anniversary of leaving it behind.

Billie Jenkins isn't your typical college student. She wears the burden of a lonely life concealed with pretty clothes, a few sarcastic remarks, and a sunny disposition. To the rest of the world she's just Billie Jenkins but, to the innocents she saves, she's a hero.

She's also a witch… not that anyone knows it yet. With the powers of telekinesis in her arsenal, nothing's going to hold her back. Of course the lonely soul is bound to find out that she can't carry the weight of the world on her own. She's gonna need a little help.

As for right now, she's too stubborn to see. She's a firecracker ready to explode. Evil beware, the blonde bombshell just found her next victim- a level one demon attacking an innocent in a secluded area of the park.

The second his feet hit pavement, he took off in a dead sprint. As he moves aimlessly throughout the city, he feels like he's suffocating and imploding at the same time. He beats lightly on his chest, not stopping but realizing he's not getting air into his lungs. That's when another set of memories come his way.

_Leo: So maybe you came back from the future not just to save Wyatt, maybe you came back to save us too._

He runs faster…_  
Paige: Not if it's gonna save one of my two favorite nephews._

…And faster…_  
Phoebe: You just go back to that beautiful, peaceful world that you helped create…I'm really gonna miss you._

…And faster…_  
Piper: Thank you for coming here. I love you…Now go on. Hurry. You be safe._

…And faster until his feet couldn't carry him anymore. Lying on the fresh cut grass with his heart slamming against his ribcage, he realizes that they're in his veins and he cannot get them out. As he lies there exploring their options, Ben hears the familiar sounds of battle.

Across the way, masked by a few hedges, the young whitelighter sees a girl with shoulder length black hair and bangs wearing a somewhat revealing tight black top dark leather skinny jeans, and stelleto boots that go to her knees. If his breath hadn't already escaped his chest, he assumes she'd of taken it away. When he sees another demon shimmer in behind the girl, he's quick to shout to her.

Ben: Get down!

Caught off guard by his presence the stubborn blonde doesn't ask questions and did what she was told. A fireball wizzes past her and collides with the first demon. Then, while still on the ground, Billie throws her athame straight into the chest of the surviving demon before he can shimmer. The moment he erupted into flames, Ben runs to her side.

Ben: Are you okay?  
Billie: I'm fine! I could have handled myself, ya' know.  
Ben: Oh right. You had them right where you wanted them. My mistake.  
Billie: You know the whole heroics thing usually comes with a knight in shining armor, not a jerk with a sarcastic remark.  
Ben: Fine, you've got the whole strong independent witch thing going for you… whatever. Just, at least, let me take a look at your arm.  
Billie: Thanks but no thanks.  
Ben: Wait.

He reaches out to grab her uninjured arm and the moment his fingers connect with her skin, an unexpected spark surges through his skin. It was a faint spark, stronger than a static shock but not enough to surge through the body. Judging by how fast she turns to look at him he's not the only one that felt it.

Billie: What the hell was that?  
Ben: Maybe, we've got sparks… or maybe it's the universe telling you to let me take a look at your arm.

She exhales deeply and takes a step back towards him. An anxious Ben wonders what she's gonna do next when she holds her injured arm towards him in surrender. He asks her to follow him and leads her to a nearby bench and pulls off his shirt, tearing it to make a makeshift bandage that'll hold her until she gets someplace safe instead of actually healing her. After all he doesn't really know the extent of her magical background.

Ben: We'll use my shirt as a makeshift bandage.

He moves in such a casual way that that it's clear he's oblivious to the intoxicating effect he has on her. All she can do is sit there and incessantly tell herself to breathe and not stare at his abs or other features of his muscular physique.

Ben: I'm Ben by the way… Ben Hall.  
Billie: I'm Billie.

As he's finishing up, he casually glances around them and realizes which bench their on, which side of the park their on, where exactly his feet took him. His eyes fall on the pillar and the statues and instantly burn with tears.

_Bianca: Same reason you'd know I'd be waiting here. This is still our spot, isn't it?_

His attention slowly returns to Billie as she eyes him taking in the paleness of his skin and look of sheer horror on his face.

Billie: Um… Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost.  
Ben: (whispering)You could say that again.  
Billie: Excuse me?  
Ben: I said you're all set. Nice meeting you, Billie. It's been uh… interesting.

She goes to say something when Ben orbs out, leaving her sitting alone on the park bench.

They say home is where the heart is. That may be true for some and for others it may not. Today marks the one year anniversary of the death of Christopher Perry Halliwell… It was also his birthday. He believed he left his heart in a house on Prescott Street. But if that were true… would it be beating out of his chest, right now? Would he have felt it ache when he saw her in danger or it literally skip a beat when he so much as brushed a hand against her skin? Some say home is where the heart is and now Ben Hall is not so sure.


	2. The Heart and Its Reasons

Anonymous Reviewers: Thank you and I'll keep my updates coming as fast as possible.

Fiction Ghost Writer: Yeah, well he died on the final episode of season six. So it was either he became a whitelighter or merged with a Chris that would wind up lacking the depth that his character does. So yeah, he's a whitelighter but he'll be sure to catch a ton of breaks if I have a say in it.

Crlncyln: Yeah he's not technically a Halliwell anymore but something tells me he'll land on his feet. And I'm glad you can't wait to read more because I can't wait to write more.

McLaughlin: Let me just start by saying I love your review. Glad I've got you on the edge of your seat. Wish I could supply some vague answers to your questions but I'm writing this on the fly so I have no clue where it'll go.

Weiliya: Thank you. I'll keep the updates coming as fast as they pop into my head.

-Reviews are greatly appreciated.

Charmed Identity Crisis….. Charmed Identity Crisis….. Charmed Identity Crisis….. Charmed Identity Crisis

Heart. Noun. Five letters. One Syllable. The heart is probably the only thing the size of your fist that houses a world of emotion. Passion. Hurt. Affection. Trepidation. Animosity. Obsession. Love. Sometimes you feel all of them at the same time with no rhyme or reason behind it. Pascal once said, 'the heart has reason in which reason cannot know.' Ben's just about to discover just how true that statement really is.

Ben Hall has always been a man guided by reason, taught there was a reason for everything. He was also taught to follow his heart but, after your hearts been broken so many times, you choose to let your head take the wheel and steer. Ben strongly believes first you lose what you love and then you suffer the unquenchable thirst that remains. For companionship. For love. For understanding. For endlessly and unconditionally.

Yes, Ben Hall is a man of reason… but the law of reason is about to take a back seat when it comes to a certain blonde witch.

It's been forty-five hours and twenty-one minutes… not that he is staring at the ceiling counting every painstakingly long second since his encounter with the mysterious blonde or anything. Or maybe that's exactly what he is doing. It isn't a big deal or anything. Or maybe it is a huge deal. Ben isn't quite sure yet.

As he contemplates the meaning of the cosmic shock, the unexpected spark he got from her touch, Ben is being watched. The lower level demon stands in the shadows of his hallway watching the young whitelighter with such precision that he can see the gentle rise and fall of his chest as well count the number of times he's blinked. In fact, he relishes in the perplexed expression on Ben's face. His pain is this particular scather demon's bread and butter.

Once Ben's head bobs to the side the demon thinks it's a better time than any to take out his mark. He races into the room, fireball in hand ready to strike. However, he terribly underestimates the young whitelighter. The moment he steps onto the area rug in front of the bed, electricity surges through every fiber of his being with a vengeance.

Ben: Nice little trick, ain't it…Had a witch friend of mine set that one up.

Ben grabs his signature athame from atop his nightstand and orbs to the ground beside the now snapped trap in the kneeling position. The demon wears a heartagram around his neck- the only distinguishing mark. Other than that, he appears human- right down to the brown eyes and pale skin.

Ben: Whataya' want from me?  
Demon: Your life.

Ben makes a shallow slice across the demons stomach in a cold calculating manner, abandoning the pacifist tendencies of his fellow whitelighters.

Ben: Next time will be your throat. Now tell me, why'd you come after me?  
Demon: You and that blonde are sticking your noses where they don't belong.  
Ben: You're lower level. Who're you working for?  
Demon: You might as well kill me. I'll never tell.  
Ben: See that sounds like my kind of challenge but something tells me you're not worth the trouble. How about the count of five… you tell me everything or I vanquish your sorry ass. Sound fair?

Ben digs the athame deeper and deeper into the demon's throat counting backwards from five. The moment he's done with the countdown there's nothing left of the demon but a scorch mark on the shag rug. Any form of animosity he feels for the demon intensifies as he stares loathingly at the scorch marks on his rug. Breathing a deep sigh, Ben slowly makes it to his feet and walks into the small bathroom connected to his bedroom.

Ben: Should have known that girl would get me into trouble.

Being so close to the demon when he burst into flames produced ash on his skin which he knew needed tending to. He vigorously scrubs at his hands, face, and neck- the only exposed skin thanks to his now ash covered long sleeve shirt and long plaid pajama pants. After stripping down into merely his boxers, Ben walked back into the closet and pulled out a plain red Henley and old faded blue jeans.

As much as it irritates him, Billie is probably in just as much trouble as he is and if he wants to figure out what demons are after her, he must go where he vowed to never return. An internal pep talk and an orb later, Ben finds himself standing in a place that he used to spend as much time as possible in and the place he was stabbed. Standing in the center of the Halliwell attic was the prized object he seeked.

Ben: Book of Shadows, long time no see.

He takes his rightful place at the podium and stares down at the one and only Book of Shadows like he'd done a million times before, only this time was different. Something felt different, like the book isn't his holy bible anymore. For as long as he could remember, Ben was drawn to the book like some magnetic force. It was almost as if his very soul was connected to it but now he feels just as connected to it as he did with any other book he read.

In the hopes of restoring his connection, the whitelighter's fingers move smoothly over the leather only to have a sigh of disappointment expelled from his lips and the detachment to the Halliwells strengthen. Then he opens it and flips through the pages with the carelessness he would any other book. He moves in haste fearing getting caught. He shouldn't be here. He really shouldn't be here but she may be in danger. Internally he smirked and thought, 'All this for one girl… you must have it bad Hall.'

He must have gone through the book at least a half a dozen times, thinking maybe just maybe he was just missing it. If only it were that simple. A mistake. The demons weren't in the book, nor did he have any prior knowledge of them. They didn't work for the source because they didn't work for Wyatt in the past… or was it future? Maybe it was just nonexistent. The whole time paradox thing was starting to turn his brain to mush.

But one thing is certain. The demon that attacked him tonight, and more than likely the ones Billie faced off with last night, is not in the book. Knowing that it is the first time the book let him down aggravates him to no end. He lets the anger get the best of him as he slams the book shut cursing.

Ben: God damn it!

He hadn't even realized he'd screamed until he hears the distinct sound of heels clacking up the stairs. The cavalry is coming. His heart slams against his ribcage profusely as he tries to orb. Orbing under pressure wasn't anything out of the ordinary. He'd been orbing since he was a kid. When he was younger he'd played games like orb n' seek and tag orb. Orbing was in his nature but at this very moment, it feels like a foreign concept.

He wants to run. He wants to orb. At this point he'd do everything and anything to get away but he's stuck; his feet might as well be glued to floor. As their footsteps get louder, he becomes more and more panicked. His body tenses and his lungs freeze with misery. Three hundred and sixty-six days of keeping his secret blown. He closes his eyes and braces himself for the inevitable...

The door creeks open and holding his breath, Ben opens his eyes expecting three women with brown hair and brown eyes gawking at him. He is preparing to offer up an explanation but stopped before a single syllable could be uttered. Instead he sees women scanning every inch of the room and his mother in an all too familiar attack mode- with her hands ready to blow up the intruder if given a moment's chance. They look right through him and move about the room as if he doesn't exist.

Paige: Well, I got nothing.  
Phoebe: Me either. Look, we've got bigger things to worry about than some phantom noise.

A sinking feeling settles in the pit of his stomach as he turned his head, careful not to make a sound, and stares blankly at his mom- stares at Piper. There she is within arms length, the beautiful woman that he had once had the privilege of calling mom. The woman he will still, to this day, lay down his life for, Piper Halliwell. How is it that he could see her and she can't see him? Then he remembers.

_Sandra: Ben? What're you doing up here? I thought we made it perfectly clear you weren't ready for your whitelighter duties yet.  
Ben: I know but I just shot lightning bolts out of my hands. Last time I checked it was more of an elder than a whitelighter thing.  
Sandra: Electrokinesis… in a whitelighter? That can't be unless…  
Ben: Unless what?  
Sandra: Unless your genetic composition was redone when you became a whitelighter because Leo was an elder when your parents conceived you.  
Ben: But I wasn't conceived. Melinda was.  
Sandra: That's not entirely true. You see when—  
Ben: I don't wanna know. Just tell me what other Elders powers I have?  
Sandra: I'm afraid only time will tell._

Time is telling him right now that his elder abilities don't end with Electrokinesis. In a moment of maximum desire to hide, he turned invisible. He rekindled the flame inside himself, and -the moment Melinda's crying echoes throughout the house and they leave to see what put the child in distress- he orbs out smiling like a lottery winner.

He lands in the three-bathroom, three-bedroom apartment in a building that was atop a hill overlooking the beach. There is even a long wooden staircase that links the building directly down to the beach. The floor to ceiling windows are maticulousely placed throughout the building to give you the feeling you're out in open water.

For all intent and purpose this building is his home. He's converted one bedroom- the one more secluded from sight from the living room- into a home gym slash training room. The other bedroom is a study. Though, he considers it more out of necessity than actual desire to make it home. After all, the master bedroom and bathrooms were all the same as when he moved in.

The open floor planned kitchen separates itself from the dining/living area with a long, marble island counter and everything in that general area is exactly the way it was when he moved in. Not a single homey touch in the sleek modern apartment is put in by his hand.

His internal debate on what makes a house a home is cut short when he peeks out of the study and realizes the living room is lit up and the televisions on. He quietly moves down the narrow hall that opens up into the dining room trying not to make a sound against the tile flooring. As he moves into the dining room and tucks back into the small hall that connects to the training room.

One thin wall separates the whitelighter from uncertain doom. His warrior instincts come into play as he turns the corner sharply with an energy ball in hand. However it disintegrates in his hand when he sees the trespasser. He opened his mouth, surely ready to say some witty sarcastic remark, and shuts it before it can betray him.

Billie: Whitelighter, a guardian angel of the magical community. They're responsible for-  
Ben: Hold up a second. You came all they way over here just to give me a vocab lesson.

His lips curve into a slight smirk as he takes in the beautiful, brave, and brilliant blonde staring at him like she had all the answers to the questions he hasn't even begun to ask. Hating the distance between them, Ben moved closer and took a seat on the couch. The cogs in his head turn, questioning why he wasn't avoiding her like the plague. If he learned anything from history, it'd be that love never lasts. Yes being near her makes him susceptible to pain but being without her… that's just a pain the young whitelighter feared more than an eternity of solitude.

Ben: A friend of yours stopped by earlier… told me we're sticking our noses where they don't belong but the funny thing is I didn't stick my nose anywhere. So you can tell me what you're getting _us_ into and maybe I can help or…  
Billie: Or what.

She was never a girl to accept an ultimatum when it was hurled her way. She'd always made her own paths in life, never one to fall into the lockstep of society. Those gorgeous green eyes scan him a moment as he turns off the TV. Something tells her they're finally getting down to business.

Ben: Or you don't tell me and I'll help you anyways.  
Billie: And what exactly do you get out of this, Whitelighter Boy.  
Ben: I get the satisfaction of seeing past all the black spots in my life for awhile.  
Billie: Kind of dark. Can't ya be a little more cheery in your response?  
Ben: I've always been broody. Take it or leave it.  
Billie: Fine. I'll take it. They're Scather demons. I don't know much about them… other than they're lower level and that they're protecting the man that killed my sister.

The thing she desires most is vengeance. Almost fifteen years ago a demon snuck into her room in the middle of the night and killed her sister. They took her companion she valued most and left her alone, which is how she lived her life from then on. Once her powers blossomed her grandmother taught her the trade until last month when she died of old age- leaving Billie alone again.

Her desire only grew from then on festering in her soul like a disease. Ben wasn't a stranger to vengeance but he knows it's a tricky thing. He can thirst for it for all eternity or he could start anew. So he decides to accompany her on her journey for revenge, hoping he can persuade her to not let it corrupt her the way it corrupted him before.

Ben: A vengeance killing?  
Billie: You can call it what you want.  
Ben: Well Bonnie, looks like you've got yourself a Clyde but first thing first, we need to set up some protective crystals and get you a good night's sleep. It's hard to fight off an army of demons when you're too exhausted to stand.  
Billie: Alright. I'll see you bright and early.  
Ben: Where do you think you're going?  
Billie: Back to the dorms.

She gets up and starts to make her exit when he orbs in front of the door stopping her dead in her tracks. Judging by his arms crossed over his chest and strong willed stance, she's in for a battle of wills.

Ben: Scather Demons are on your tail. The dorms aren't safe. We'll place the crystals and you can take my room. We'll continue your vendetta in the morning.  
Billie: I'll take the couch. I'm not kicking you out of your room.  
Ben: I insist.  
Billie: And here I thought chivalry was dead.  
Ben: My mother raised a gentleman.  
Billie: And my mother raised a girl that knows how to share. Whataya say, Hall. Wanna share?

It was innocent enough. Ben knew that but it didn't stop the butterflies from running rampant in his abdomen at the suggestion. He simply nods and walks past her into the study. The entire wall was bookshelf –except for the door- in which he entered. On the opposite wall was the tools of the trade as well as a desk with a computer. He digs in the storage bin and comes back with an arm full of crystals.

Ben: I'll set these up. Help yourself to my closet and pick something to sleep in.  
Billie: Yes, sir.

She gives him a mock salute and walks back into his bedroom. He lets out a laugh as she goes past and for a moment he feels like there's nothing wrong with the world, that his own pain isn't drowning him internally. And in that moment of silence… with no rhyme or reason behind it, he saw a man of blind faith.


	3. Death and Its Inevitability

**-I don't own Charmed**

**-This chapter takes place right before 8x01 Still Charmed and Kicking.**

**Crlncyln- Thanks for being such a loyal reader. Unfortunately I can't answer your question without spoiling what's to come.**

**Enjoy! Reviews are appreciated and motivate me to update sooner (but I won't withhold chapters because the lack of reviews)**

Death. Noun. Five Letters. One Syllable. The sad truth is everyone dies. Whether it's violent or non, fast or slow, now or a hundred years from now…even sometime in between, everyone dies. The magnitude of this tragedy is so great that it's hard to believe it happens everyday. In his past life, in the now no longer existing future, Ben Hall was no stranger to the grim reaper snatching up loved ones.

At fourteen he lost his mother- the first domino that started the slaughter. Next to fall was his grandfather, then aunts, uncles, cousins, friends… everyone dropping like flies until he came back. Even then the relentlessness of death caught up to him, catching Bianca in its cold vise grip.

Hundreds upon thousands of souls lost to the grim reaper… even his own. No, Ben Hall is no stranger to death but that doesn't make the pictures of his family in the obituary section of the Bay Mirror any easier. Right there in black in white is news that might as well have taken bodily form, jabbed its fist into his chest, and yanked out his heart.

The words are right there staring him in the face. Smiling, happy faces of deceased loved ones are staring him in the face. He just can't believe it. In fact, he down right refuses. He just saw them four days ago. The coffee cup falls out of his hand and he orbs out before it shatters on the ground at the liquid pools into a larger growing puddle.

The second he sets foot up there, his head snaps in every which direction, at a rate that would probably give him whiplash more sooner than later, looking for someone, anyone who could supply him with answers. Whitelighters and Elders moved around him in frenzy. Something terrible was happening in the magical community and he has a sickening feeling his disbelief would soon be shattered. Giving up waiting out, he screams the question on his mind.

Ben: "Is it true..? Are the Charmed Ones dead?"

Suddenly the sea of Whitelighters and Elders scatter and two Elders remain. The moment they take off their hoods and reveal saddened expressions, Ben knows. They don't have to say yes. He just wants answers and he is going to get them.

Ben: "How'd it happen?"

Sandra looks to Odin and he looks back to her, neither one wanting to answer, or knowing where to begin. He slams his fist into a pillar sickened by the fact that the people with all the answers keeping quiet.

Ben: "Damn it! I asked how it happened."  
Sandra: "Zankou got ahold of the Book of Shadows and tried to open the Spiritual Nexus. The sisters came to the realization that the only way to stop Zankou was to sacrifice themselves. They destroyed both him and the Nexus… but at a grave cost."  
Ben: "Where was Leo? Why didn't he heal them?"  
Odin: "Leo hasn't been an elder for some time now. He fell from grace."  
Ben: "What? You left them unprotected. My God! You might as well have wrapped the nooses around their necks."  
Sandra: "Ben, you must let us explain—"  
Ben: "Explain why you abandoned them! Nothing you can say will ever make that okay!"  
Sandra: "We cannot begin to understand what you're going through but they died for the greater good."

The calm tone the Elders use doesn't do anything for Ben other than make him want to yank out their jugulars. Before his thoughts have a chance to turn into action, he casts them aside long enough to get his final statement.

Ben: "If I didn't think I'd need these powers to protect Wyatt and Melinda, I'd fall from grace and tell you where to shove your greater good."

The hate crashing over him comes in waves that make a tsunami look like nothing. Suddenly it's to much and his breaths become shallower. The negative charges he masks within attack him in an all consuming manner. The more he tries to fight his power- to bottle it up and not turn his most heinous thoughts into actions- the stronger it becomes. He crumbles under its strength and prays that his orbs will carry him to the underworld fast enough.

Ben's a time bomb waiting to explode. Every vein in his body feels like it's being grinded down with sand paper. Knives might as well be pricking at his skin, his body heat rises at an alarming rate, and he feels himself ripping apart at the seams. He tells himself not to let it go… to just hold on, for fear of what might come.

Scather Demon 1: "Well, well. Looks like someone's got a death wish."

Looking through burning eyes, Ben manages to make out a blurred figure hovering over him and at least two dozen more shimmering in behind him. Ben curses their timing and them adding fuel to the dark fire blazing within. Feeling his insides wanting to curl up, he crouches into himself and presses his head to the cool dirt of the underworld floor and fights the urge to scream out.

Suddenly, he feels a hand tug on his brown tousled mane and groans as his head rises up in compliance. Through squinted eyes he sees the menacing circle closing in around them, the malice in their leader's expression as he holds a fireball in his hand that blazes brightly. Then he relinquishes, certain it's a kill shot. Before the flaming ball could reach the seeming helpless whitelighter, his grip on his powers slip, and a bolt of lightning is expelled from the hand he threw up to shield himself.

Once he let the bolt of lightning leave his hand, he couldn't stop the power from surging. The others Scather Demons are baffled as he turns to them, lightning bolts burning in his eyes. Bolts of lightning form around his hands while he stretches them out to either side of him. Then he lets it flow- all the hatred and aggression he's let fester within his very soul. Blood-curdling cries fill the cavern and Ben didn't even realize some of them were his. The room lit up so bright that it burns blue and blinds the dying demons.

As the bolts get stronger his body is raised, as if the lightning coursing through him is propelling him upward. The blood pounding in his ears drowns out all the silence and his chest heaves wildly as his lungs scream for air. All the anger festering within his soul- whether it was over their deaths, abandonment issues, past betrayals- was expelled until he was sucked dry. By the time his body expelled as much lightning as it would allow, he fell back onto his knees in the thin layer of ash that is scattered around the cavern floor.

Billie: Ben!

His body is drenched in sweat, his hair to the point of dripping wet. The clothes he wears is branded with scorch marks from lightning exiting his back and chest, as well as the marks from a few fireballs. Mixtures of mud and ash sticks to his skin but he's to focused on taking the necessary steps to get air into his chest. He rolls onto his back and stares up at the ceiling questioning what to do now that his purpose for living is gone and his fears of being alone are starting to become more real.

Billie: Ben!

* * *

Light filtered through the floor to ceiling window, leaving slants of illumination splattered across the 14x15 bedroom. Billie squinted for a second, momentarily cursing the light before rolling over and burying her head deeper into the pillow. However, it's not the scent of her vanilla shampoo she smells on her pillow. It's the Polo cologne… his cologne.

That's when she remembers. These aren't her pillows. That isn't her window the lights streaming through, and this isn't her apartment. In her groggy, I-just-woke-up, state of mind it takes a moment to recollect the events that transpired the night before.

…_Dorm…Class…Library…Getting attacked… Attacked!_

Ben must have saved her… again and brought her here. She slowly gets up remembering taking a fireball to the chest. Imagine her surprise when there isn't a stitch of pain. It almost makes her question whether or not she'd imagined the whole fight. Almost. The scorch mark on her shirt proved otherwise.

She crawls out of bed, wipes the sleep from her eyes, and walks out into the hallway. Where was Ben? She checked the study and walked out into the main room. Her intentions are to keep walking when she heard the TV on but stops when a cold liquid starts to get absorbed by her socks. A broken coffee mug, the puddle of coffee stretched across the floor, the dining room chair turned over…Something was wrong. Billie just had no Idea what.

Billie: Ben!

She remembered that he said just to call if she needed anything. She can't help but smile remembering the way he corrected himself… '_I mean if you want anything because you're a young independent witch that doesn't need anything from the whitelighter boy.'_

Sarcasm seems to be their second language and he kept saving her… her knight in shining armor. Wait. Did she just brand him hers? She could kick herself. She kept reminding herself that it is his job to protect her. It's strictly plutonic between her and the gorgeous whitelighter… Wait. Gorgeous? Oh god, who was she trying to kid? She's head over heels for the boy. Now all she had to do was find him.

Billie: Ben!

She expects him to orb in with that glimmer of mischief in his eyes- not bloodshot, puffy, red rimmed eyes filled with pain and misery. It appears that he went through hell and back and, knowing the selfless whitelighter, he just may have. They sit there for a minute, eyes locked green on green.

Billie: Hey, are you alright?  
Ben: No. I'm not alright. Haven't been for… God knows how long.

He walks through the coffee obliviously numb to the fact that he's making tracks on the tile. The numbness taking over his thoughts and actions would make a zombie look lively… and he hates it. He'd rather feel the pain of loss, the tragedy of abandonment, than go back to being a soullessly numb being. How's he supposed to live a life without direction, purpose, meaning.

Now he had nothing to hope for and everything to fear, nothing planned and empty dreams. The last traces of Christopher Perry Halliwell inside of him- the side that clung to his parents and aunts- mourns their loss but they aren't his anymore. This Piper isn't his Piper- the one that would kiss his boo boos and teach him to cook. This Phoebe isn't the one that took him to the park or gave him advice on how to ask a girl out. This Paige isn't his teacher, his mentor. She isn't the one that supported him at every basketball game. This Leo isn't the man that abandoned him and well… maybe that wasn't such a bad thing.

Billie: Ben, what happened?  
Ben: You don't need to worry about Scather Demons anymore.  
Billie: I'm more concerned about you than the demons right now, Ben.  
Ben: My name's not Ben… or at least it hasn't always been. Look I know this probably doesn't make sense and I've got a lot to explain but it'll have to wait. I gotta… I gotta get ready for a memorial service. My parents… and my aunts, they're uh, they're dead.  
Billie: Oh God, Ben, I'm so sorry.

Fundamentally speaking, what gets us through a crisis is who we are. Nobody can do it for you but that doesn't mean they won't try. Billie's facial expression screamed save me- internally fighting her own unresolved issues with death- but her heart says protect him, be there for him. So that's what Billie wants to do. She'll do whatever she can to be there for him. You see, Billie is a special kind of person- the kind that follows their heart over their head and cares for the well being of others.

His morning has given him a hundred reason to cry reasons to hate, reasons to shut out the rest of the world. Ben wants nothing more than to do just that but knowing her words solely for his benefit makes him feel guilty for playing the cold uncaring card he's about to pull. He simply can't take the thought of falling for her and losing her too. People always leave him, whether they wants to or not. It's simply been his experience.

Ben: Me too. But it doesn't bring them back.  
Billie: You're right. It doesn't. But you once told me that you wanted to look past all the black spots of your life and something tells me pushing people away who want to be there for you isn't going to make any bright ones.  
Ben: Why delay the inevitable. Push before they take off in a dead sprint.  
Billie: Cynic.  
Ben: Optimist.  
Billie: Broody.  
Ben: Cheery.  
Billie: Okay, since everything has an opposite… this game could go on forever. How about we call a truce and you let me go with you to that memorial ceremony- strength and numbers and what not.  
Ben:… Deal.

A warm embrace engulfs him before he can even begin to protest. Then there it is again. That charged spark zaps him in the chest, jumpstarting his traumatized heart. And in that moment, she takes him back to the days he believed the world was filled with infinite possibilities and he felt like he could fly. It is in that moment he knows she's gonna be his life raft through the storm, the compass to direction, meaning, and fortitude. She's the one that shows him that life isn't a race to the finish line. That death may be inevitable but so is life.

* * *

Review!


	4. Life and Its Price

**I do not own Charmed.  
This takes place during 8x01 (events unmentioned aren't changed)**

**I'm starting to wonder if anyone's really interested so review and tell me if I should keep going. **

Life. Noun. Four Letters. One Syllable. It's been said that the best things in life are free. It's also been said that everything comes at a price. Two painstakingly contradictive statements and Ben spent the greater part of his life wondering which is legit.

Ben was taught to believe the first but often witnessed the second. Year after year, day after day, Ben found that if something was said to be free, the other foot usually dropped and a price was paid. Ben wonders whether or not this paradox has an answer or is deliberately set up to drive him mad. At moments like this, he can't help thinking that this was the price of living, like they had to die so he could continue to live.

Four hours after reading the newspaper, Ben stands in front of the mirror adjusting his tie in preparation for the memorial ceremony over at the manor. Burying his mother was inevitable. All children bury their parents. He just didn't think he'd have to do it twice._ 'Technically I don't,' _he realizes internally. _'This time there isn't even a freakin' body.'_

He looks into the eyes of the stranger in the mirror. He had swept up blond hair and bared a striking resemblance to a hybrid of Chad Michael Murray and Paul Walker. Low key didn't seem to be in Billie's vocabulary when she put glamour on him. The thought of a glamour hadn't even crossed his mind. Nothing really did beside the guilt of a million what ifs and the roads not taken.

* * *

If there was ever any doubt that one person could make a difference, that what we do matters, it is dashed at the moment he set eyes on the sea of people in the manor. Every one of these people's lives had been touched by these people- the legendary Charmed Ones. Whether it was the women or the legends, the thoughts or the actions, they changed lives and saved them too.

Ben stands frozen in the front hall- suspended in time- just watching the sea move around him. He can hardly breathe; it's like there's this weight on his chest being in the manor without them. Figuratively speaking, there is. Memories of his childhood, those moments that technically never happened, haunt his heart.

Whether time remembers it or not, Ben knows that when he was eight, he thought it'd be smart to skateboard down those stairs. When he was twelve, he learned to play guitar in the living room. He learned to cook in that kitchen, excelled his powers in that attic, slept in the front bedroom.

They had Halliwell family dinners at the dining room table where his Aunt Paige's urn is, did his homework at the conservatory table where Phoebe is, and sat in the living room window waiting for his mom to get home for P3. Not her ashes. Not what's left of them.

His heart constricts painfully at the thought of his brother and sister missing out on their own set of memories. His head spins madly in a whirlpool of emotions. Just when he thinks he cannot do this any longer, her arm interlocks in his. It's a small gesture of support that makes all the difference. He mouths the words 'thank you' and she smiles sympathetically and mouths 'welcome'.

On a table in the front hall entry is a sign in book and a pile of white roses. None of them were particularly fond of white roses. His mother liked tulips, Phoebe liked sunflowers, and Paige was partial to lilies. He signed the book Ben Hall because Chris Halliwell still just doesn't feel right. Billie signed beneath him and they took a combined total of three roses.

Billie: Your Aunt knew Janice Dickinson?  
Ben: Huh?  
Billie: That guy over there said Janice Dickinson was just here.  
Ben: I don't know. Coulda been an innocent or something.

* * *

Meanwhile in the kitchen, the woe of neglect forces one Halliwell sister to realize how little she was involved in the world outside of magic and has her own identity crisis

Piper: We were supposed to keep a low profile. What were you thinking?  
Paige: I was thinking that I've obviously been spending too much time in the magical world because nobody even cares that I'm dead!  
Phoebe: That's not true! You have mourners… I mean, there are lots of leprechauns out there—  
Paige: I mean REAL PEOPLE!  
Piper: Well there was your friend Glenn.  
Phoebe: Yeah Glenn was at your urn and… and Ruthie, our neighbor.  
Piper: No she was just going to get coffee.

* * *

He stands in front of the picture and urn of his Auntie Paige. Noticing the lack of flowers, he took the two in his hand and set them in front of the picture. Paige always strived for perfection but he couldn't help but remember the beautifully flawed woman he knew and loved. She was strong but not impervious, courageous but not fearless, creative but not virtuoso. Her imperfections make her perfect… made.

Coming to the funeral was supposed to be the key to acceptance- the fifth stage. They say we grieve in five stages: denial, grief, anger, bargaining, and finally acceptance. Five Stages. One Cycle. If only it were truly that simple, why is he back to denial? Why does he keep going through the motions? Why does he keep coming full circle? Why does he keep going around and around, doing and feeling the same.

Five stages of grief. Denial. They can't be gone. They were just here. Anger. This isn't fucking fair! Bargaining. I'll trade my life for yours. Grieve. It hurts so much I can barely breathe. Acceptance. As if this will ever come.

Five stages of grief…as if it's that simple.

As if he'll ever accept that they'd died.

* * *

Leo: …What are you doing?  
Piper: Apparently having an identity crisis.  
Paige: Oh..! So it's okay for you to change your husband into. OW!  
Phoebe: What's wrong?  
Paige: It's that jingling in my head.  
Phoebe: Does that mean the Elders know she's alive?  
Piper: No. They can't. We cloaked ourselves from them.  
Leo: It could be a new charge. Ya' know a connection to one's whitelighter is automatic.

The moment the words came out of Leo's mouth he could see the cogs begin to turn in Paige's head. That was never a good sign and now, that they had a whole new lists of secret to keep, it certainly isn't. Before he can even begin to imagine what's going on in that pretty little head of hers, she's blowing past him and peeking out the door. Thankfully Phoebe's hot on her heels and pulls her back in before her curiosity kills the cat.

Phoebe: No, no, no, no, no. No demons.

Paige goes back into the kitchen all but giving up when Phoebe notices another set of mourners standing in front Paige's urn. The young man's face was contorted such raw emotion and the blonde on his arm kept looking at him with concern on her face like he'd shatter at any given moment.

Phoebe: Hey Paige, do you know them?  
Paige: Who?  
Phoebe: The couple standing at your urn.  
Paige: No. You don't think that one of them is my charge, do you?

* * *

He feels eyes on him like a sixth sense. His initial reaction is to look towards the crowd of people and when he turns back towards the urn he catches a glimpse out of the corner of his eye but when his attention snaps that way, it's nobody. He writes it off as his memory playing tricks on him but voices his concern all the same.

Ben: Did you see that?  
Billie: You mean the man wearing brown shoes with a blue suit?  
Ben: No. I thought I saw… Never mind. Let's go pay our respects to Phoebe.  
Billie: You sure you don't want to take this slow?  
Ben: Yeah.

He never knew one word to sound so conflicted in his life. It's been happening so fast. Four hours ago he found out they were dead. It all just seems so sudden, rushed. He doesn't want to take it slow and let it sink in because the moment he truly does stop, he fears his heart will too.

Grief is a destructive force. It's sneaky and swift like a thief in the night, sneaking up unexpectedly and pouncing. Its intended target is Ben but as it prepares to strike, he catches sight of a shifty looking man conversing with the man he used to call grandpa. The moment he sees a murderous look cross his grandfather's face, Ben pulls a redirect and walks over to the pair in order to investigate, finally finding the strength to stand on his own.

Victor: Get out.  
Ben: Is there a problem here gentlemen?  
Victor: Mr. Haas was just leaving.  
Ben: I'll show him out.  
Haas (at Victor): Again, sorry for your loss.

The altercation seemed to have run its course. Ben keeps a friendly smile on his face and the attitude of a mediator shown to the man. Truth is he's just getting a read. Everything about the man is dark: dark voice, dark outlook, dark clothes, dark skin, dark everything. One thing is certain in his mind. He wants them as far away from Victor and the kids as humanly possible. He takes him out onto the porch and avoid them.

Haas: I'm sure I can take it from here.  
Ben: Okay, sir. Just um… it'd be wise of you to never darken this particular doorway again.  
Haas: Are you threatening me?  
Ben: Me? No, Sir. I was just offering a friendly suggestion.

With that Haas left. Ben watches him walking down the block with such devotion that he doesn't notice Billie joining him on the front porch.

Billie: Who was that?  
Ben: I'm not entirely sure but I intend to find out.

* * *

The second his feet hit the floor of his apartment, he's on the move. He's a man on a mission, relentless in his search. The moment he puts his mind to something is the moment the first step is took towards accomplishment because he won't stop until he gets it. Maybe it's the soldier in him or maybe it's the Halliwell. Whatever the case, he's not stopping until he knows that they're safe.

Ben: Billie, you take the laptop and see what you could scrape up on this business card I pickpocketed from Victor.  
Billie: Paul Haas. Real Estate agent. Wait you want me to look into a real estate agent? Thinking of selling the place?  
Ben: Something about him didn't sit right with me. Twenty bucks says he's a demon.

Ben moves the shelving unit that houses a number of your typical Wiccan objects like potion ingredients, vials, maps, and magical artifacts. It acts as a door, swinging on hinges and revealing a hidden room. The 8x10 room was actually a 15x10 with part blocked off in order to protect his secrets. Curiosity leads Billie into the room behind him.

All of Billie's findings led her to be the Underworld was nothing more than a global maze as vast as the ocean, uncharted and desolate. But an entire wall of the secret room is dedicated to a map of the Underworld divided by demon territories instead of countries. It almost appeared to be a projected image and when she reaches out to touch it, the image zooms in and breaks out into clans and camera options. Cameras had ben set up through throughout it.

Ben: Before you ask a misspent sabbatical and I uh… lived in the underworld for a few months in my late teens.

Billie looks up at him, evidence of stunned shock still present. Then she looks at the heavy arsenal of weapons: athames, crossbows, arrows, swords. Next to it is a locker and on the wall connecting the map and arsenal is a locker with clothes for undercover and a leather jacket with a symbol she'd seen before. She blows past him and pulls out a black leather jacket with a white skull wearing a crooked crown on the back of his jacket and a single stripe from his shoulder to his wrist.

Billie: No way. You're that vigilante that's responsible for the arrests of over a hundred criminals. You're the cities white knight.  
Ben: There's a whole world of people out there that needs us. We can't wait for them to come to us. The jacket is just me wanting to bring justice to the innocents of the world but can we focus on the task at hand.  
Billie: Okay but this conversation is not over.  
Ben: Fine. The fact that Haas has a cover as a real estate agent could mean he's trying to get ahold of the manor. I'll stake out the house use the card to scry and call me if you get anything.

* * *

The best things in life are free or everything comes at a price. Their freedom comes at a price. They make Wyatt, Melinda, and Victor vulnerable. The Halliwells argue the best way to protect the family and scold Paige about not ignoring who she is. Meanwhile, a hero remains close, ready to save the day at a moments notice. After Billie's little altercation with a demon in the theater, they found the card wasn't good enough to properly scry. So Ben and Billie choose the stakeout method.

Ben: I'm beginning to remember why I chose the Military over Police Academy. Stakeouts suck.  
Billie: You were in the Army? I didn't know that.  
Ben: There's a lot you don't know about me.  
Billie: Then tell me.  
Ben: 20 questions… full honesty. Promise.

The rarity of finding uncensored honesty in responses, especially when coming from Ben, makes his proposal all the more shocking. He was a man of mystery hiding behind sarcastic responses and subject changes. He has trucks in his pockets, things up his sleeve, mischief in his eyes. But he promises honesty and she takes him up on it.

Ben: Ladies first.  
Billie: Alright. Is the glass half empty or half full?  
Ben: Neither. It's the wrong size.

The clever response brings a smile to both of his faces but it's quickly wiped off Ben's face when the crystal sitting on the dashboard lit up indicating a demonic presence in the house.

* * *

Haas: Hello, Victor. Now, are you sure you don't want to sell?

A smug expression crosses his face, thinking he has the elder man right where he wants him. It's a condescending nature that quickly evaporates when the front doors burst open to reveal the disguised duo that was really becoming a pain in his side.

Unknown Demon: Who are you guys?  
Ben & Billie: Your worst nightmare.

Their argument with Grams is cut off by the sound of a loud crash. While many would run away from danger, these girls are different. They run towards it.

Phoebe: That doesn't sound good.  
Piper: Oh no it doesn't.  
Paige: Thank you for coming.  
Grams: Oh, the good old days.

* * *

If there was one thing that could be said about Ben and Billie's fighting style is that it's almost poetic, the way they fly through the air and move with such fluidity and agility. Billie sends a demon flying against the wall before doing an elaborate flip up and over the couch. The moment she touches down, she pulls an athame from her boot and gets a second demon in the abdomen. Meanwhile, Ben focuses in on Haas.

Ben: I told you to stay away!

Ben peels back the hood of his blue hoodie desiring to look Haas in the eyes until the lights went out of them and he erupted in flames. The urge to kill- the desire to make sure his family is forever protected from this demon- drives him to want to end his life in the most unmerciful way. Yet, his common sense tells him one death of a demon won't make any difference. There needed to be a message sent.

He drives a spinning back kick into Haas's chest and followed it up with firing an arrow from the weapon that attached to his wrist that fired off arrows like the device Spiderman used to sling webs in the cartoons. It pinned the demon to the wall, shot through his shoulder, and Ben began his menacing approach.

Ben: This is your final warning. Mess with Victor or any other member in connection to the Halliwell line and I'll kill them all. Spread the word.

In an attempt to protest, Haas telekinetically sends a lamp flying in Ben's direction.

Paige: Look out!

Ben's not a fool. When you're told to look out in battle, it's best to heed the warnings. Ben jumps down and avoids the lamp. After finishing off the last demon other than Haas, she sends an athame Haas's way. Haas flames out just in time. Billie walks over to Ben and gives him her hand so he can make it to his feet.

Something about the intensity of battle- be it the adrenaline rush or the passion- sends the electricity surging through his body exciting every nerve. That spark they had the moment the first met went off driving both their eyes down to their hands. Suddenly he's intoxicated and draws her closer. He's so drunk on the grace of her smile, the intensity of her eyes, and the touch of her skin. Everything about her is highly addictive.

Ben: Thanks for the heads up.  
Billie: It wasn't me.  
Ben: Then who?

The Charmed ones stand up from their hiding spot behind the railing in an attempt to get a better look at the couple. When the man with short, brown, tousled hair turns to look at them, pulling his Aviator sunglasses off, Phoebe gets hit with the memory of the first time those green eyes met hers. Paige remembers the last time she'd seen them open and Piper jumps back like she's been burned.

Piper: Chris!

It's been said that the best things in life are free. It's also been said that everything comes at a price. Ben finds nothing in life is free. As he puts two and two together, he realizes though the best things in life don't come with a price tag they do come with their own sets of prices. The best things come with an effort behind them. You work for them. Drive. Determination. Heart. Practice. Everything comes at a price. Ben's just about to find out the price for their lives.


	5. Truth and its absoluteness

**This chapter is short sweet and to the point. Expect another update a.s.a.p.**

**This chapter is also dedicated to my most loyal reader Crlncyln.**

Truth. Noun. Five letters. One syllable. Ben'd been taught that the truth is absolute but led to believe that the only thing in life that's absolute is Vodka. He'd experienced that there is gray area between right and wrong, good and bad, truth and lies; that everything is negotiable, left to interpretation. He's witnessed people bend truth, transform it, and make unrecognizable. Ben was taught that the truth is absolute and the women that taught him the absoluteness of truth lied about dying.

Piper: Chris?

The tension thickened to the point that not even the sharpest knife in the world could put a dent in it. It was suffocation worthy sucking up every word in the English language and leaving him with nothing. He wanted to run, to orb, and he'd of even settled for walking. But he couldn't move; he could hardly breathe. That is until he feels soft slender fingers interlock with his. Then suddenly things get a little less scary and he's superman with the wind at his back giving him his voice.

Chris: No, not anymore.

The voice he found was as bitter as unsweetened chocolate. His mind rapidly pieced together the events that transpired and brought them to where they stood and he was downright pissed. They're the people that taught him to embrace his magical destiny, fight evil, save the innocents and they turned their backs on their own teachings. Sure he knew his mother was the queen of griping about wanting a normal life in this time but to actually fake her death to obtain it was like a knife in his heart.

Billie: Maybe we should go.  
Chris: No, I wanna introduce you to the Charmed Ones.

Billie looked at the whitelighter, at the people on the stairs, and then back at him with a confused expression on her face.

Billie: That's not them.  
Chris: Wha- of course—

'_When they fake their deaths they really go all out_,' he bitterly thought the moment he realized they were glamoured. Now he was border lining hysterical as he ran his fingers through his hair and let them interlock behind his head. Then a dry humorous laugh escaped his lips before he spoke.

Chris: Let me introduce you to the **GLAMOR**ous Charmed Ones. They hang you on a cross then turn their backs on everything you stood for.

None of the women had even fully recovered from the shock he was standing before them let alone his brash irate words. Phoebe reacted on autopilot- her experience as the middle sister/ mediator coming into play.

Phoebe: I know your upset—  
Chris: Upset! No Phoebe I'm not upset. I'm abso-fucking-lutely livid. I moved mountains for you people, messed with the very fabric of time, even. God damn it! I even died for you- for family. What a fucking waste.

They tried to interrupt, to defend themselves, but found that a difficult- if not impossible- thing to do. Tears filled the eyes of all parties involved and Piper's actually fell at an uncontrollable rate. The way the witchlighter spoke- the brokenness he radiated- pulled at her heartstrings until they severed completely. Momentarily his eyes glazed over with a whiteness that Paige recognized and she pulled her sisters down for fear of what the obviously distraught man would do.

Instead of in their direction the hands that had electricity surging between their tips momentarily shot sideways and took out the grandfather clock before it died out and a new demeanor was displayed from their former witchlighter.

Chris: You know what? You're not worth this. I've spent so much of my time sacrificing life and limb for you and I… I can't do it anymore.

Phoebe, Paige, and Piper sniffle at his jaded tone and words, wondering how the man went from sarcastic to cynical. Chris stepped back, trying to create physical distance to match the growing emotional distance in his heart and their hearts lurch as he grows more cold and impersonal.

Chris: I'm done. Congratulations ladies. You got your magic free existence; it just cost you my respect and x amount of poor unfortunate souls that die at the hands of demons that require a Power of Three vanquishing spell from here on out. (Turns to Billie) C'mon Billie. There's nothing left for me here anymore.

Realizing he's about to leave Piper instinctively reaches out to grab him but the couple disappears in a shower of white and light blue orbs.

* * *

Assembled in the attic the Charmed Ones and Leo have a family meeting to explore their options on chasing their fallen witchlighter now whitelighter.

Paige: Why's he still here?  
Phoebe: What? Paige!  
Paige: I meant, why didn't he go to his own time after he uh… ceased to exist.  
Piper: That's what we need to find out.

_Christopher Perry Halliwell stood at a crossroads once upon a time. Before his discussion with Zola, Chris stood before the Tribunal and pleaded his case, desperate to get his family back in either their time or his. He'd of accepted anything at that point. He just wanted his family back. Was that too much to ask?_

_Chris: If it wasn't for me the future would be damned. I know for a fact that all the Elders would be dead and well, let's just say demons aren't much better off.  
Adair: You cannot say your actions were for our benefit. In fact, the reason you came back was to save your family. You filled your purpose.  
Chris: Surely I could find another purpose. Do you honestly think that my family would be so motivated to do the greater good after you erase me? The Cleaners know firsthand how unsuccessful it is to attempt to erase a Halliwell.  
Crill: You sound so confident in your family.  
Chris: The Halliwells- my family, the Charmed Ones- value family more than you value protecting against exposure.  
Thrask: Are you a betting man Christopher?  
Chris: Go ahead manipulate memories and make it to where I wasn't family. Do whatever you got to do any you won't be successful. My family would never forget me! I bet my entire existence on it. _

But Chris was wrong. To this day, the Halliwells are clueless to the true identity. Piper remembers the witchlighter that braved the stormy moments and died to protect her oldest. Phoebe remembers the neurotic man that always seemed to overcome the odds and captivate their hearts. Paige remembers the witty sarcastic man that she watched die. Leo remembers the boy he had a rough start with but wound up taking under his wing and hitting it off. He remembers being by his side as he died.

Leo: Well we can't go to the Elders. They think we're dead.  
Piper: Scrying isn't working, either.  
Phoebe: Maybe a spell?

Piper: We call upon the power of three.  
Phoebe: So that the truth may be set free.  
Paige: And unravel the mystery  
Piper: That we know as Chris Perry.

Their heads instantaneously jerk up as if they'd been shot in the back, and minds pounded with the unlocking of memories. Then another force captures the family standing by the book, taking their legs from beneath them and transforming them into jelly.

Piper: Oh  
Paige: My  
Phoebe: God!

* * *

When we open our hearts, we open them up to more than love, sunshine, and rainbows. Because every time you open up theirs that risk they'll reject you, break your heart, and leave you feeling empty. That's the sad truth and Chris had already had that sad truth shoved in his face more often than not. Letting Billie in was risking adding another car in the pile up of his car crash of a heart. Post declaration- owning up to every wrongdoing and summarizing the millions of random acts that brought him there- he watches her intently for any sign of how she was feeling.

Billie: Wow. I mean, wow.  
Chris: (nervous laugh) Yeah, you said that already.

He observes her body language for any sign of where her head was at. She was staring at him like she didn't know him at all when in reality she knew him better than anyone at this point. He misinterprets the stare and stands up.

Chris: I… uh… I know you didn't sign up for this so if you want out… I won't blame ya'. I just want you to know that moment I told you about, the moment that drew me out of the shadows and made me want to live again… was the moment I met you.

His intentions were to go over to the door and open it being a gentleman until the bitter end but he froze the moment he felt those familiar slender fingers wrap around his wrist. Without warning, he turns, bends his head, and she brings closes the distance- and their lips collide in a passion filled explosion. The moment their lips touch, there was no stopping them.

Fireworks of passion explode in their heads and butterflies fly rampant in abdomens as blood pounds in their ears. Then he pulls away, ignoring her slight whimper of protest. She opens her eyes to see a smile on his face. Not a smirk but a legitimate smile.

Chris: So I'm guessing you're in.  
Billie: All in, Future Boy.

**REVIEW!**


	6. Time and Its Memories

**I'd like to thank the Anonymous for their review. (I think they deserve to feel crappy too.) ;-)  
Carla-Leigh: Yeah, I actually saw a Chrillie video on youtube that got me hooked on them.  
ChickenBake: One of the best on the site… Thanks! You really know how to make an author update quick.  
Reviews inspire me to update faster!  
Oh and obviously I don't own Charmed.  
Enjoy!**

* * *

Memories. Noun. One word. Three syllables. What marks our time on this Earth. Is it the memories we accumulate or as simple as days on a calendar?

In the darkest hours before dawn, Piper Halliwell sits in the nursery rocking her daughter sleeping soundly in her arms. She loved her daughter more than life itself. She was her little miracle baby she saw in a trip to the future. But her son had to die; he had to be forgotten so that she could be born. And Piper wasn't sure how to feel about that. Her eyes stung from the strain of continuous crying.

Her son…

How could he ever forgive his mother for forgetting her son? How would she ever forgive herself? When it came to Chris, Piper felt she could never get anything right. It was bad enough she barely tolerated him before he was her son and now this. He died to save his big brother and she couldn't even do him the courtesy of remembering him. She forgot her own son! Could she even call herself a mother after that?

Her self-loathing is interrupted by shimmering blue and white lights of orbs. When they form into her son, her heart leaps out of her chest and she scrambles to her feet careful not to jostle the baby girl in her arms. However, he seemed oblivious to her presence. With his back towards her, Chris moved over to his little/older brother's bed and smiled.

After he died, he still kept a connection to Wyatt. He'd sneak into the nursery and watch his little brother sleep, occasionally visit him at daycare, and spend time with him without the sisters' knowledge. Even in death, Chris's heart remained pure and his eyes ever vigilant. His eyes stayed on Wyatt before turning ninety degrees to sneak a peek into Mel's crib. He still didn't see Piper but Piper saw him. She saw the fear in his eyes when he saw she was missing from her crib.

Piper: She's okay.

After nearly jumping out of his skin, Chris turns to look at his mother. Her eyes were red rimmed, skin blotchy. She'd been crying, balling actually and odds were that she'd been at it for hours. That tension he felt during their last encounter was present if not stronger.

Chris: You remembered?  
Piper: Yes.  
Chris: Wow. Only eleven months too late.  
Piper: Chris I—

He put up his hand to silence her. Whatever she was going to say he just didn't want to hear it. After a while I'm sorry loses its shine, apologies lose meanings, and he loses faith. He picks up Wyatt's teddy bear off the floor and puts it back under the sleeping boy's arm.

Chris: Let me just save you the trouble. You're not my mother, Piper. You don't owe me anything and frankly I don't want anything.  
Piper: Of course, I'm still your mother. We've got a bond that can't be broken, Chris.  
Chris: Bonds break all the time, Piper. Before you were still my mother because I still gonna be born; we may not of had the same experiences yet but one day you'd be the woman that raised me. Now that's not going to happen. You'll never be the woman that taught me how to ride a two-wheeler or tucked me in at night. That woman's gone. She died when I turned fourteen. You don't know me Piper.

Piper watches as her son disappears in a shower of orbs. He did have a point. She didn't know but she was going to change that with a little magic.

* * *

Billie finishes applying her lip gloss and looks in the mirror a final time before she gives herself the seal of approval. Then she slowly returns everything on the bathroom countertop back into her makeup bag. That's when she feels him behind her, arms slowly wrapping around her waist. The skin of his forearm brushes against the exposed midriff peeking out from beneath the flowy silhouette of her sherbet red strapless cami.

Suddenly, her heart skips a beat as she meets his gaze in the mirror- green meets green. She feels like she is lost in a jungle or tropical rainforest every time she looks into his eyes. She imagines herself getting lost in the endless maze of trees and veins making her their willing prisoner. He spreads a few kisses down her neck; her breath hitches and she feels those sparks surging through her body again.

Chris: 'There was the black solitude of the islands,  
and there, woman of love, your arms took me in.  
There was thirst and hunger, and you were the fruit.  
There were grief and ruins, and you were the miracle.'  
Billie: Christopher Benjamin Hall, or whatever your name is. Are you trying to seduce me with the words of Pablo Neruda?  
Chris: Definitely.  
Billie: Well it's working.

With her words she turns to face him, pressing her body up against his. It amazed her how perfectly she fit against him… almost as if they were made for each other. He brushes away a few strands of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear and leaving his hand to linger on the side of her neck. Her heart rate picks up beneath his fingers and he commits the feeling to memory.

He wants to remember everything about her in this moment: the touch of his hand on her soft flawless skin, every line and every curve of her face, the way she kinks an eyebrow trying to be flirty. Finally the desire to obtain what he craves drives him to lean in and let his hand guide her closer, just a fraction of an inch.

She feels everything fall away. Every worry. Every fear. Gone. All that remains is two people falling madly, deeply in love. Their lips lock and the kiss deepens; their passions threating to devour them. They part briefly as he sweeps his arms around her waist and he gives her that classic Halliwell smirk. Up onto the counter he lifts her and immediately occupies the space between her legs, kissing her again; this time in a slower more sensual manner. That single moment could have lasted for all eternity as far as Chris is concerned. But like most moments and most good things, it came to an end.

There's no denying the stabbing pain suddenly erupting in the back of his skull. It feels like someone's drilling at the wall he'd strategically placed to keep his sanity- keeping repressed memories repressed. Out of instinct his hands go to the back of his head to try and physically hold it in place.

Billie: Chris? Chris what's going on?  
Chris: S-some-someone's in my head.

He staggers back only a few steps and collapsed into an unconscious heap on the floor.

* * *

Town Square (Chris's mind)

The city lay in ruins. Buildings were demolished, the sounds of demons rioting in the street echoed around her, and smoke was rising from fires burning merrily away in the streets. Huge, black clouds covered the city in darkness. Everything about this future is evil, even the weather.

The devastation that was San Francisco made her sick. Maybe it wasn't the visual as much as it was the olfactory senses. The smell of decomposing bodies cooking in the hellacious climate. Or maybe she was right the first time. She's never been the squeamish type but the crimson blood and graying ashes sprayed over the rubble and piles of corpses would traumatize anyone. So engrossed in the scene, she didn't realize the figure in the distance.

Chris: Piper what the hell did you do?

The heinous popping noises of gunfire sounded friendly compared to his tone. She turns to face him taken aback momentarily. She expected to see her neurotic witchlighter son and not Sergeant Halliwell- covered head to toe in camouflage and ready for battle.

Piper: Chris…  
Chris: I said what the hell'd you do!  
Piper: It was a spell.  
Chris: A spell! Jesus Christ Piper… do you realize that your snooping may just cost me my sanity… my life, our lives?

At a phantom noise he gripped his M16A2 semi-automatic combat rifle a little tighter and looked for an exit. The format of the city wasn't the same as the future. The buildings were shifted into a maze like format. He hated mazes… has since he was a kid and got lost in a haunted maze at the spook hike.

Piper: Chris, I'm sorry… I—  
Chris: Save it Piper!

She jumps back again as if she's been scalded by boiling water. He spoke to her with the same bitter disgust he used in regards to Lord Wyatt. Despite everything, she didn't deserve it.; in her own crazed way, she was trying to help… to understand… to love and be loved. Could he really hold her accountable for that?

Chris: Look, I'm sorry but this isn't really the time or place. We've got to get the hell out of here. What kind of spell was it?  
Piper: I just wanted to understand you… and I casted a spell to see the memories that made you who you are.

Do we make the events in our lives or did the events in our lives make us? At that moment he thought of the millions- maybe billions- of seconds that led to where they were now. Was it the tragedies that morph us, the good moments, the bad, the sad, maybe a combination. Chris wasn't sure but he was positive he'd soon find out.

Chris: Well that's fan-freaking-tastic! Let's move so we can get through this as quick and painless as possible.

He stares at the streets he could go down quite literally realizing he's standing at a crossroads. Eyeing the two momentarily, he opts to go left. Before starting his quest, he takes his gun and fires bullets into the corner of the building at the beginning of the road so he'll know which path he took in case he makes a wrong turn down the road.

He takes her hand in his and keeps his stony expression, despite her smile. It was the first physical contact they had since she hugged him goodbye one year, one week, and one day ago… not that she did the math or anything. He moved swift, hiding in door frames as he moved, for fear of something or someone actually being there. It didn't take long until he hit a dead end.

Chris: Fuck.  
Piper: Language!

He rolls his eyes and goes to turn around but finds his feet glued to the floor. Then on the flat dingy white wall a memory from his head was projected.

_(Six years old, birthday, Halliwell Manor)_

_A small boy appears on the wall. She captures the sight of her little boy as a little boy- with a longer version of a crew cut, knobby knees, innocence in his eyes, and a genuine smile that shows he doesn't have a care in the world. It's hard to look at the battle hardened soldier next to her and see that boy. _

Piper: Aww…You were so cute.  
Chris: I still am.

_He pads his way down the hall and into Paige's room which was apparently his in the unchanged future. The walls are light blue with a royal blue and red plaid with subtle hints of yellow. He had shelves full of books, pictures of family and friends, and his own masterpieces. Toys were everywhere… hot wheels, army men, legos in a bin by the door, board games on his shelf, and a half-finished masterpiece on a table by the window. _

_Right beside his bed was a basketball; on the nightstand a Superman action figure. Seeing the figure she realizes everything in his room was Superman: his bedspread, lampshades, furniture. Turning her attention back to the boy she watches him tie a superman cape around his neck and start jumping on the bed. Back then he could fly, or so he imagined. _

_Piper: Hey Peanut!  
Chris: Hi momma!  
Piper: Whatcha' doing?  
Chris: Just jumpin'_

_Her usual distaste for him jumping on the bed dissipated the moment she lays eyes on the ear to ear grin and beginning of a mischievous laughter fit. She really was a good mom. The best, of course he was a little bias. _

_Piper: What? You think you can get away with breaking the rules just because it's you're birthday.  
Chris: (With a small fit of laughter and growth of his smile) Yeah!  
Piper: I see. _

_She makes it seem as though, she's moving towards the door in exit but does a stutter step and races towards the youngster, sweeping him up in her arms, and spinning him around. They crash land on the bed and she immediately begins tickling his underarms and underneath his chin. _

Piper: You seem happy.  
Chris: Of course I do. They're showing you things that shaped me into the man I am.  
Piper: (teasingly) Turning six?  
Chris: A mother's love.

A mother's love. It's the most unconditional, pure gift he has ever been given. Before that moment in time she taught him how to ride a bike, tie his shoes, read a book, and count by twos. She'd go on to teach him life lessons and be his guiding light. His mother's love directed him towards the right path. She helped him make his first steps.

He took a step forward and touched the stilled image of Piper- the Piper that was his. The Piper of 2005 stares at the young man taking note of the sides of his lips faintly turning upward. Watching her, watching him, his smile vanishes and he walks back down the path they took the last turn at.

Chris: Let's get out of this god forsaken place.

Uncharacteristically, Piper bites her tongue and lets Chris lead the way. Through the maze he moves more strategically, fearful of what other memories might come up. It felt like they'd been moving for hours and he was thankful. As he went to mark a corner with his bullets, he found there was no more ammo in his gun. Without hesitation, he pulls his knife from his ankle strap and cuts open his hand, causing Piper to gasp.

Piper: Have you lost your mind?  
Chris: Considering we're in it, I'd have to say no. It's just another way to mark our path Piper. I want to get home as quickly as possible.

Home. There was that word again, only this time he used in reference to the year 2005, to his apartment, and to Billie. Of course, Piper misinterpreted him. The manor was home to her and she figured it was the same for her son. And it was… once upon a time but not now.

Again, they moved in silence racing down the paths but only got through two or three turns before hitting another dead end. Immediately he recognizes the image appearing on screen and demanded in his best no nonsense voice.

Chris: Piper, look away.  
Piper: What? No.  
Chris: Look away!  
Piper: Why?  
Chris: Because.  
Piper: Because why?  
Chris: Because this…this is the moment my mother dies.

Realizing the implications of his words paralyzes the woman. She wanted to run, scream, cry… do something. Instead the seasoned veteran stood there watching the _newly fourteen year old version of her son walking slid into wearing a black band tee and a pair of jeans with a whole in the knee and wrapped his mother in a hug from behind._

_Chris: Hey mom.  
Piper: Hey Peanut. How was school.  
Chris: It was school. Are those peanut butter cookies for me.  
Piper: Nope. They're for the birthday boy.  
Chris: Well he's a lucky man.  
Piper: (laughing) Go wash up and they're all yours birthday boy.  
Chris: Yes ma'am._

_With a mock salute and an orb, the teen was in the upstairs washroom vigorously trying to get the grime off his hands he'd accumulated in auto shop. Going to mortal school for the first semester and spending the second at magic school was his idea, one he never used to regret. His mother was happy he kept some remnant of a normal life and he was happy he got out of school at 2:40 instead of 3:30 like his cousins and brother. _

_A loud crash sends a race of panic, tearing through him. He didn't even shut off the sink, just disappeared in a shower of orbs without a moment's hesitation. It was only a minute- the time it took for him to get upstairs, wash his hands, and get back down. But in that moment his whole world changed._

_His plan was to go from the dining room, knowing his mother wasn't fond of him blindly orbing into danger but the danger wasn't just in the kitchen like he'd suspected. Immediately he's greeted with a vicious right hook from a demon with the power of invisibility. He'd taken his fair share of blows but none were as distinctive as the blow supplied by the Omnitaxler demons. Not only do they hurt like hell but they send you reeling. A few steps back; that's all it took to get strike one._

_In Chris's perspective, a fight is sort of like baseball in the sense that you get three strikes. Three strikes, three major strikes, and it's game over. His backpedaling brought him back into the hallway or as he liked to call it the room of expensive breakables. _

_Another Omnitaxler demon was quick to take advantage of Chris's misfortune. An extended arm takes him by the back of his head and thrusts him forward into the glass casing of the antique grandfather clock. Again and again he slammed the young witchlighter's head into the glass._

_Every collision his head made with the heirloom was accompanied by a fierce lacerating pain. Every slice the glass makes into his flesh, every micro fracture his skull makes into the glass, he feels. His mind is so consumed by the immensity of the pain that he relies solely on instinct to pull him out of such a sticky situation. _

_His hands go out to the wall on either side, bracing; the severity of another impact avoided. Then, blindly, a swing of the elbow is made followed by a connection. Cartilage crunched as it connected. At the sound of a thud, he turns and, to his surprise, the demon flashes back to visible. An almost animalistic instinct to protect his family drove Chris to take a shard from the casing and drive it through the demons heart. _

_A demented happiness came about as the demon erupted in flames. However, he doesn't get the pleasure of basking in his first solo kill for long. Another cry sends the boy with a crimson mask racing into the dining room whipping his hands out to clear a path just in case any other demons stood in his way. _

Chris: This is the last time I can warn you to look away Piper. What's beyond those doors will haunt you for the rest of your life.  
Piper: If you have to live with it than I can too.  
Chris: Who says I could?

Before she could ask what that meant, her eyes wonder over to the projected image where strike two occurred. _His entrance into the kitchen was missed but what wasn't were two of the Omnitaxler demons coming from behind. He failed to be aware of his surroundings and for that he paid the price. They took his right arm, realizing his powers are hand oriented. Then he drives it into the wood of the door frame with that uncanny force. _

_Combining the force with the angel was perfect for damaging the first to carpal bones; his first limb injury in his heroic endeavor. The pain was enough for him to want to cry but he knows Wyatt wouldn't cry. He'd fight back. The second collision was above the triquetrum and caused another break and a possible sprang to the hamate._

_The sickening crack of each collision area enough to send chills up anyone's spine and his bloodcurdling screams were devastating enough to wake his unconscious mother. Out of instinct, she threw her hands up in a menacing gesture and caused the demons attacking her son to spontaneously combust. _

_Piper Halliwell was a good mother. She loved her sons and would give anything to protect them. This time it was her life. As her son fell to the floor she stood up leaving behind a pool of blood where her head laid. _

Chris: Before you asked me what I've been living with; knowing something happened to you. I stayed quiet but what I really should have said was you weren't entirely right. I was living with knowing that my mother died because of me.

She wanted to reassure him that it wasn't true. She was just being a good mother. But her eyes were glued to the scene unfolding, wanting to see how he could possibly blame himself. She wanted to see how she would die and hopefully take preventative measures.

_She made her way over to her son, stepping on the cookies spilt on the floor. That's when an Omnitaxler demon became visible again. He was different from the others, more deformed and menacing. What caught his attention most was the fact that it had three blades protruding from its green knuckles that vaguely reminds him of Wolverine. _

_Chris: Look out!_

_His call wasn't fast enough the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle looking demon stabbed her straight through. Then the demon shimmered out before Chris could do a thing about it. He scrambles to his feet and is by his mother's side before she could fall. _

_Chris: It's okay mom. I got you. Just hold on okay? Wyatt! Leo! Paige! Henry! Damn it anyone!_

_She was the perfect mother to the bitter end. Her hand went out and gently grazed his cheek. He was about to whisper soothing words but found himself too choked up. Her hand pulled his face towards hers, staring him right in the eye- her warm brown ones looking into his green ones. Then she choked out words she wanted him to believe with all his heart._

_Piper: I… love… you, Peanut. Everything'll be okay. _

_He tries to look away, unable to accept her parting words. She brings his face back to hers to put as much emphasis as possible, willing him to understand. Her breathing had hitched and her lips were turning purple. The shallowness of her breath jumped to nonexistent so he pulled her close kissed her head and made a plea. _

_Chris: Hold on mom. I'll get you help!_

_In a flash he was in magic school holding his mother in his arms. If it wasn't for adrenaline, he wouldn't be standing. He collapses on the floor in Paige's office screaming help as loud as he could. She came running in without a moment's hesitation. _

_Paige: Chris? What?  
Chris: Help her! Please!_

_Tears fill her eyes and she tries so many times to heal her sister before turning to her nephew._

_Paige: I can't heal the dead._

Hot tears streamed freely down the matriarch's eyes as she stares at the stilled image of her son cradling her body. The expression on his face was one no one should have to wear- an expression of not just heart breaking but your heart shattering. His heart shattered and he looked so horribly broken that she felt sick. '_How could she put her son through so much heartbreak?_'

Sensing that she wasn't going to be able to pull herself away from the image, Chris did it for her. He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into an embrace. Tears soak his shirt as he fights his own. They stood there for a moment, regaining composure and finding their voices.

Chris: They're Omnitaxler demons. They successfully break up the Power of Three in my time.  
Piper: Are you saying that's my fate?  
Chris: No. It was my mother's fate. In your timeline, Omnitaxler demons are extinct. I made sure of it myself. You won't die when Melinda turns fourteen.  
Piper: I'm sorry.  
Chris: For?  
Piper: That you had to lose your mother at such a young age…That you had to relive it and comfort me when I should be the grown up and comforting you.

He stares at her a moment, his eyes bleeding a wide array of emotions. He doesn't give her much more than that. She thinks it's because of her but really it's the simple fact that if he lets himself ponder it, allows himself to feel how he felt that day, he may never get out of this god forsaken maze.

Chris: I'm a big boy, Piper. Let's keep moving

* * *

Leo Wyatt woke to an empty bed. Concern for his wife immediately swelled over his already traumatized heart. Soundlessly, he got out of bed and looked into the nursery only to find his sleeping children, and searched the main level only to find the other sisters sitting at the table drinking what looked like their fourth or fifth cups of coffee. The bags under their eyes were prominent as well as the tear stains on their cheeks.

Leo: Hey have either of you seen Piper?  
Phoebe: No. I thought she was in the nursery.  
Leo: No, I already checked. Maybe she's in the attic.

Paige: Uh oh, I got jingling.  
Phoebe: You don't think it's from the mystery blonde, do you?  
Leo: Go see what she wants! Maybe she's with Chris.

While Paige orbed out, Phoebe and Leo went to check the attic for Piper. To their relief she was sleeping on the couch. Leo's sigh was audible as he walked across the room and took a place on the edge of the cushion. He gently shakes her a bittersweet smile on his face.

Leo: Piper, honey, wake up.

When she didn't stir worry caused his heart to constrict again and he became increasingly panicked.

Leo: Piper, wake up! (to phoebe) Phoebe, she's not waking up.

As Leo checked her pulse and pupils, Phoebe caught sight of a tablet of paper with something scribbled on it. She immediately picked up the tablet and read the words in her head, eyes getting bigger with each word.

Phoebe: Leo, she cast a spell to see into Chris's mind.

* * *

Paige orbed into the apartment to see her charge pacing back and forth nervously trying to figure out what to do with her incapacitated boyfriend that she dragged out into their bedroom. She lets out a shriek and nearly sends Paige telekinetically flying across the room

Billie: No, no, no. I really can't deal with you right now. We're in the middle of a crisis.  
Paige: Hey, you're the one that jingled.  
Billie: I what?  
Paige: I'm your whitelighter and you were in distress so I came. So, are you gonna tell me what's the problem?  
Billie: Chris and I were—

She lets the last letter linger as she turns the lightest shade of red. She's never been one to have a boyfriend but telling his aunt about sexual escapades didn't seem like the brightest move.

Billie: Doing demon research when he stumbled backwards, said someone's in his head, and hit the floor.

Paige raised an eyebrow that spoke volumes and crinkled her nose at the thought of what her nephew and charge were really up to. But she quickly tosses it aside when she sees her nephew on the other side of the bed. Quickly she races to his side and checks his vitals.

Paige: We'll get him to the manor and see if there's anything we can do.  
Billie: That might not be the best idea. He's not exactly team Halliwell now a days.  
Paige: Well he can hate us all he wants after he's better now come on!

Just a quick orb later the three arrived at in the attic.

Paige: Hey guys we got a whitelighter down… and apparently a sister. What's wrong with Piper!  
Phoebe: Seems our sister decided it'd be smart to see Chris's memories.  
Billie: And apparently Chris had to accompany her.  
Phoebe: Exactly! Wait. Who are you?

* * *

He wasn't sure how they'd hit another wall so quickly but they had. Piper let out a loud curse, not sure she could face another hellacious memory so soon.

Chris: (teasingly) Language..! Relax Piper. I think this is a good memory.

_The eight year old, Christopher Perry Halliwell looked up to his brother more than anything. He'd follow him around and study him wanting to be just like his big brother. But he wasn't. He'd rather play with a skateboard than a football, read a book than watch a movie, be on the honor roll than be captain of a team. But on that summer day he decided to skip the skate park and play tag along with his big brother much to Wyatt's dismay._

_Chris: Hey Wy, how many assists are you gonna give me?  
Wyatt: I don't know, Chris. What time did you say mom was going to pick you up?  
Chris: She's not. She said that I get to spend the day with you!  
Wyatt: Awesome._

_Wyatt's response was less than enthused but Chris chose to ignore it. They got to the basketball courts at the park where Wyatt's friends were gearing up for another football game. The second Wyatt came up, they cheered. He was the twice blessed and the golden boy. He was one of the captains they picked until Chris was standing alone in the lineup. _

_Wyatt: Alright, we got Chris.  
Random boy #1: Aw come on Wyatt! He stinks. _

_Chris lowered his head and Wyatt elbowed the boy in the ribcage. _

_Wyatt: Don't listen to him Chris. (Gets closer to his brother and whispers his plan) Ya' got it?  
Chris: Yeah!_

_The second the ball was inbounded Wyatt took off for the basket in a dead sprint. The defense caved in on him just as he anticipated they would and he passed the ball to a wide open Chris. The ball went into his hands and he smoothly shot at the wide open hoop with absolute precision. _

_SWISH!_

_Wyatt: That's right baby! Don't mess with the Halliwell Brothers. _

Piper: Aw…  
Chris: Yeah, yeah.  
Piper: What was that memory supposed to show me? Brother bond?  
Chris: That's the moment I decided I'd do anything for my big brother and the moment I fell in love with the game.

Memories are what we make them. Some are immortal like permanent ghosts, stamped, inked, imprinted eternally within our minds while others are erased, cast aside or eternally repressed, held behind lock and key. Either way your time is defined. Memories, actions, roads we take mold us into the people we are. The good, the bad, the sad- memories make us who we are. Our memories are our stories, our literature, the soundtracks our lives… And Chris's are about to get a lot more interesting.

**Review!**


	7. From Mind to Manor

**Happy Easter Everyone!  
I don't own Charmed**

They'd gone the farthest they've gone without hitting a dead end. For that Chris was thankful but his thankfulness quickly turned to bitterness as he found a double dead end. '_Two for the price of one_' he bitterly thought.

_Piper watched as eighteen year old Chris stood over his grandfather with extended hands and an expression of severe concentration. Various wires and tubes were attached to the man as the ventilator aided in his breathing. It was apparent that Victor Bennett wasn't long for this world. After a while Chris's hands balled up into fists and he viciously kicked the chair behind him sending it flying. _

_Chris: Damn it! Why can't you heal?_

_His self-loathing and anguish is momentarily casted aside when he sees his aunts standing in the doorway eyeing the dismantled chair. Chris ignored the looks of concern and focused on his last ditch effort to save his grandfather's life. He quickly grabbed Paige's hand and led her towards his grandfather's side._

_Chris: Aunt Paige. Thank God. Heal him.  
Paige: You know I can't heal human ailments.  
Chris: It's not an ailment! It's cancer._

_His misty eyes pleaded with her to find a way to save his grandfather. Victor had always been more of a father to Chris than anyone and he'd already lost his mother. Sure he still hand Aunt Paige, Aunt Phoebe, and their families but he'd always felt like a spectator when it came to them._

_Chris: Paige… please. Don't give up on him.  
Paige: Don't you think I tried to heal him Chris! I don't want him to die but it's out of my hands.  
Chris: Damn it! I can't accept that. I won't. _

_Chris turned his back on his aunts and extended his hands over his grandfather, returning to the same actions he was doing when the memory began. _

_Phoebe: Chris, honey.  
Chris: I can do this. I have to do this. _

_Phoebe put her hands on Chris's shoulder and he turned to face her reluctantly. Her heart broke as she saw his face contorted with grief. Immediately she did what she thought was the right thing. She pulled him down into an embrace and held him there until he whispered a startling confession._

_Chris: He's all I have left.  
Phoebe: That's not true Chris. You have us._

_He lifted his head up from her shoulder and steeled his gaze. For years, he'd been quiet and just kept his comments to himself but he couldn't do it anymore. He had to speak his mind_

_Chris: You're a good mother Phoebe. You balance your obligations as a wife, mother, columnist, and witch but you're pulled in so many directions that some people tend to fall into the cracks. That man lying in that hospital bed… dying, he's the person that was there for me day in and day out, not just when it's convenient.  
Phoebe: (teary eyed) That's not true.  
Chris: Every time I ask you for a moment of your time and you say aw sweetie I can't right now or that we'll talk later and we never do. Three. That's the number of sporting events you went to in my high school career and Paige you're track record isn't much better. I love you both- you're family but we might as well be strangers. _

Piper: What do you mean you were alone? Where's Wyatt? Leo?  
Chris: After mom died, Wy disappeared. His thirst for revenge, thirst for that power, and desire to control brought out the unresolved issues of his kidnapping and warped my brother into Lord Wyatt. I didn't see him again until he'd already taken over the better part of our world. Leo, so heartbroken by the loss of his wife and his son- the only son as far as he was concerned- led to him barricading himself up there. I never saw him again and frankly, I didn't care. He was never there for me anyways.

All Piper could manage was to form an o with her mouth and continue watching the memory. She wanted to cry for her son. At the age of fourteen he was left by his parents and brother. Then at eighteen he'd lose his grandfather. That's when his voice hits her head dredging up a memory of her own. _'Well, then pay attention because the world I grew up in families hardly existed. I never had a chance to know mine.'_

_Chris: If you can't help me, then I'll find someone who can…_

Piper: Where did you go?  
Chris: Up there and then I spent the better part of a week looking for Wyatt but it was all in vain. He died anyways.  
Piper: I'm sorry.  
Chris: Don't be. Victor Bennett won't die because of lung cancer. When Victor and I were bonding I made a not so subtle hint that it'd be in his best interest to stop with the cigars.

Another memory was triggered silencing the boy immediately.

_Twenty year old, Sergeant Christopher Halliwell was in Darfur on his last tour of active duty and under heavy fire. The smell of bodies roasting in the heat made his stomach churn but he made no comment. He was a soldier. He kept marching on through gunfire, bombings, and tropical terrain. Some would say he had a death wish and maybe he did. He took refuge behind a pile of bodies along with what was left of his platoons._

_Chris: We need to capture high ground if we hope to get anywhere.  
Specialist: See ya' on the other side Serg."  
Chris: On my mark._

_Chris fired in rapid succession, successfully taking out a portion of the other sides platoon. _

_Chris: Now. Move, move, move._

_A veteraned finger pumped the trigger at every movie target not covered head to toe in camoflauge. The semi-automatic fired rounds of silver bullets taking down target after target. A primitive cry escapes his lips as a bullet grazed his shoulder but he kept pushing onward until he and the Specialist were the only two remaining at the top of the hill. _

_Boom!_

_Just as quickly as he took over the top of the hill, they were in danger of losing it. Explosions were to the left and right of him. His specialist was badly burned and their deaths went from probable to imminent. Until Chris did the unthinkable and used his powers on the battlefield. He orbed his comrade and himself into the Humvee at their point of retreat. _

_Chris: Man down! Mission Failure. Explosion victim. Chest trauma and severe burns. ETA unknown. Standby. _

Chris looked at his mother. She's sniffling and trembling and he can see how much she regrets her decision to invade his memories. Unable to sling her up on a cross, he puts one arm tight around her waist and directs her away the best that he can. When she stops abruptly, he stands by her side and does what he can to support her.

Piper: I'm so sorry, Chris.

He hates that she's broken down into sobs again and it breaks his heart to see the pain and remorse in her eyes; the choke that's taken captive her voice, the tears on her face. She barriers her head into his neck as he slides down the wall of the building taking her with him. He even cradles her.

Chris: It's… Everything'll be okay.

Uncertainty rang through his voice but neither had the strength to question it. If she did, she'd only be that much closer to the edge she'd already been teetering on since her death. He, himself, was dangerously close but he'd never let her see him fall.

Piper: How do you know?  
Chris: You told me it would be.

* * *

Billie Jenkins stood on an edge of her very own. In her arsenal is the ultimate power that only witches with great destinies. She'd stashed her power away until she could control it, dubbing it far to potent and dangerous to be used carelessly. But Chris and Piper hadn't woken up in two days and if he wasn't coming to her, she decided to go to him.

While Phoebe was at her new/old job under a new alias, Paige and Leo were busy with two very crabby children that only wanted their mommy. Now was her chance. Since there was nothing she could do from the outside, Billie was going in.

* * *

Chris sat holding his mother in his embrace, eyeing the building opposite to him. Suddenly the desire to get out of this godforsaken hellhole led him to bring out his inner daredevil. He releases his grip on his mother and stands before the building, eyeing it like a lion stalking its prey. Quickly he adapted from lion to monkey as he scaled the drainpipe until he was standing on the roof.

It was like an ocean, an endless space that stretched to the horizon. It was a fear confirmed. Personal gain decided not to show key moments in time. It was his life. Our values, our actions define who we are and every action he'd ever made was in this maze. Over twenty years of memories, actions, thoughts linger there. He wasn't going to be able to get them out. Climbing down he thought of how he was going to break the news to Piper. How many more memories could she take? How many more can he take?

Piper: Did you see which way we should go?  
Chris: It's best to stay put.  
Piper: What do you mean?  
Chris: I mean this maze is as vast as the Ocean. We're screwed!  
Billie: Still being a cynic, Chris?

A smile crept onto the whitelighter's face as he heard her voice, the music to his ears. He turned to see the beautiful blonde he has the pleasure of calling his girlfriend. Immediately, he bridges the gap between them and wraps his arms around his waist. Her arms go around his neck and she hugs him like he's a lifeline.

Chris: What? How-  
Billie: I astral projected.  
Chris: You astral projected? Man, my baby's amazing.  
Billie: And my baby's in a comatose dream state.

Chris looks right and then left, like he'd completely forgotten his surroundings.

Chris: Oh yeah, how 'bout that.

She playfully slaps his shoulder and he can't hold in a chuckle. Being with her made him light up and the thought of being stuck in this maze for all eternity almost bearable. Of course, he couldn't be that selfish. Piper had a family at home and they all had lives outside of this maze.

Chris: Maybe if we get Piper, Phoebe, and Paige to say a reversal spell at the same time on both ends, we can get out of here.  
Piper: That could work.

Chris finally broke his hold on Billie and turned towards his mother and nodded. He knelt down in the sand and began writing the spell with his finger. Once he was done, Billie looked over his shoulder and committed the words to memory.

We call upon the power of three  
To set Piper and Chris free,  
So that they may leave behind,  
The prison that is Chris's mind.

Chris: Thirty minutes starting…now.  
Billie: See you on the other side, boyfriend.

* * *

When he opened his eyes it was like he was opening them for the first time. Behind soft eyelids he closed them briefly trying to adjust to the harshness of reality's lite. After a few blinks she's a shadowed figure hovering over him contradicting the light. Billie Jenkins the angel from his nightmares- the answer to her prayers.

Chris: Did I die?  
Billie: What? What makes you think you died?  
Chris: There's an angel hovering over me.

She smiled that soft, sweet smile and he couldn't help himself. He put one arm behind him to support his partially sitting up position and tangled his other hand in her hair, pulling her down for a lucky-to-be-alive/my-god-i-missed-you kiss. They didn't break until they hear a four person throat clear and even then he hesitated before breaking it up.

Billie: Don't look now but I think we're being watched.  
Chris: Yep.

The minute he was in the upright position, he found two sets of slender long arms were wrapped around him and a chorus of apologies, we love you, and we missed yous bombarded his ears. Helplessly he looked to Piper and silently pleaded with her to get them off of him.

Piper: So, who's hungry? C'mon Chris. All that maze traveling has got me famished.  
Chris: I'm not going anywhere with you, Piper.  
Piper: I just thought…  
Chris: You thought what? A little heart to heart, sharing and caring would make it all go away? You invaded in my brain, turned your back on your magical destiny, betray everything I stood for. Damn it you forgot who I was and somewhere along the way you must have forgotten who you are too because you're not the Charmed Ones I know... And until you are I think it would be best we go our separate ways.

And with that Chris reached out, grabbed Billie's hand and orbed out leaving the rest of the room's inhabitants dreadfully numb or emotionally distraught…

**Review!**


	8. Moving on and the Lack of

**Hey Readers.  
I feel really bad for leaving everyone high and dry for so long  
So here's a little something to hopefully give you a quick fix.  
I don't own Charmed.  
Loosely based during Hulkus Pocus  
Crlncyln thanks for being an awesome reader as always and reviewing.  
Miss Katrina Malfoy- I'll see what I can do but trust me he'll get over it soon **

Moving on. Two words. Eight letters. One Syllable. It's a simple concept not such a simple thing to do. But he's trying. God help him, he's trying.

In only a few short minutes, the muted dark chill of the night fades away and the warmth of the sun ushers in the new day. A thousand shades of blue fill the morning sky. Usually, the divine experience of dawn is the closest to heaven that Chris ever felt. But that was before he had his very own slice of heaven. The angel didn't feel he belonged up in the clouds, not when he could lie with her and stare at them.

The blistering heat of a California summer and chill of the night were at peace leaving them feeling completely content on the top of the Golden Gate Bridge staring down at the cars as they flew by racing to their destinations. With no sense of time, they stared out at the hustle and bustle of the city below. On top of the blanket the couple smiled blissfully. Chris sat with his back to the pillar and body almost wrapped protectively around Billie.

Chris: Look at them, so intent on getting from point A to point B that they don't realize the magic around them.  
Billie: Well they don't have you to show them.  
Chris: I was one of them. Once upon a time, I was so consumed with missions and tasks that I forgot to appreciate things.  
Billie: What changed?  
Chris: Clarence the angel. He was coming for me but just in case he wasn't he told me to enjoy my day and we talked for a bit. At one point he looked up and said, "Future don't mean squat to me. I'm too old to worry about it. Shouldn't to you either. You're too young."  
Billie: Carpe diem.  
Chris: Let's seize the day. Do you trust me?  
Billie: Yeah but when someone asks do you trust them, they're usually about to give you a good reason not to.

A devilish grin flashes on his face before kissing her on the forehead and making it to his feet. Always the gentleman, he reaches out and takes her hand to help her up. Something flashes within those gorgeous green eyes that she knows the rest of the world isn't lucky enough to see. Mischievous happiness flashes as he leads her closer to the edge.

Billie: Chris back away from the edge. You've got too much to live for.  
Chris: (laughs) Have you ever played that game where you jump and people are there to catch you? The trust game or whatever it's called.  
Billie: I'm sure if ya' jumped off here, whoever tried to catch you would be a pancake.  
Chris: If you trust me, take my hand and jump off the ledge with me.  
Billie: Count of four?  
Chris: Wait. Count of four?  
Billie: I'm a bit of a procrastinator.  
Chris: Alright then, four it is. On the count of four.  
C&B: 1-2-3-4.

With her hand in his, Billie Jenkins jumped off the ledge of the Golden Gate Bridge. Wind whooshed from every angle and as her soul took flight, she fell in style. His eyes stayed glued to her as her wide eyed gaze stayed on the water below. As they neared impending doom he spun so that both of her hands were in his and when he could practically feel the coolness of the water below, he orbed. Seconds later a slew of cyan and white balls reformed into the couple, laughing and smiling like they didn't have a care in the world.

But they did.

The four walls that seem to form a protective barrier around them is crumbling at a rapid rate and soon enough Billie and Chris will have to face the outside world. It's a world where the Halliwells are back to being the Halliwells and media wondering why they faked their deaths; where the underworld has the answer to the questions plaguing her mind for over a decade. Both are about to face their greatest challenges.

Phoebe Halliwell has slipped into position as the middle sister a little too well. Adding her job as an advice columnist into the mix, and it'd only make sense that she'd want to defuse the tension between mother and son. Before Piper and Paige headed to magic school to capture a demon, upon the request of Agent Murphy, Phoebe had Paige orb her over to Chris's apartment… _Ben's apartment. _

After doing her fair share of snooping, Phoebe made herself comfortable on the couch and ran through the things she needed to say to get Christopher to come back home. She waits… and waits… and waits for the green eyed boy to return home but quickly finds herself wondering if he's ever coming back.

Paige: He's not back yet?  
Phoebe: Jeez Paige you scared me!  
Paige: You're scared? Ya' know that demon that we were told to fetch?  
Phoebe: Yah, you get him?  
Paige: No we had to leave him behind but he wasn't anything like the book described. It was like on steroids, hulked out beyond belief. Took Piper four tries to bring him down.  
Phoebe: What'd Agent Murphy have to say about that?  
Paige: Piper was hoping you'd go with her maybe get a read.  
Phoebe: But I haven't talked to Chris, yet.

As if on cue, the couple burst through the door caught in a fiery passion. Hot kisses, hard kisses, wet kisses, long kisses that could go on forever… lips and tongues, hands and bodies, completely out of control in the best possible way. The heat of the moment, the rush of her skin, even the taste of wild cherry lips consumes him.

It isn't their oxygen deprived lungs that forces the two to come up for air but the sounds of two women clearing their throats in unison. Billie's eyes widen and cheeks turn tomato red causing Chris to become all too aware they're being watched by his family, hopefully not the entire family but with his luck probably. Slowly he turns to meet them groaning in frustration.

Chris: Who are you people? The chastity police or something!

Chris scoops his shirt from the floor and hands it to Billie after he realizes he has no idea where he threw hers in their passionate haste. The blonde slides on the plain white t-shirt and smiles gratefully at her boyfriend. For a moment he swears he sees a look of concern below the rosiness of their cheeks and begins to panic.

Chris: Wait a minute, is everything okay? Is Piper, the kids, Leo-  
Phoebe: (Reassuringly) Oh, no Sweetie. Everything's fine.  
Paige: But for someone who claims not to care, you seem pretty hypocritical.  
Chris: (ignoring Paige) So nobody's hurt right? Piper's okay? Melinda and Wyatt are living their happy little childhoods? No big bad evil you can't control and are going to fake your deaths again?  
Phoebe: (not sure where he's going with this) Everything's fine. A little mishap at magic school but other than that, we're all fine.  
Chris: Good. Now get out.

Taking the path of cold and indifferent seems to have become his autopilot when it comes to them. You can only be burned so many times before you learn not to play with matches. Chris learned his lesson, maybe a little too well. Paige and Phoebe watch their nephew with mouths slightly agape. As he turns to walk towards the bedroom, Phoebe cuts him off by grabbing his arm.

Suddenly she's forced into a vision.

_The blood he's covered in is as black as motor oil and as thick as syrup. His heart has been shattered into a million, razor sharp pieces that tore his insides to ribbon. His chest heaves madly and eyes burn with that familiar white glow. He lets it roll off him in heaps expelling lightning down a corridor. _

_A glow emanating from chest spread through his body, the warm light a magnificent splendor. That Halliwell smirk fills his expression. Then the light filled the room burning with the intensity of a thousand suns. When it finally fades there's not a single soul in sight except for Christopher Perry Halliwell with a burn in his chest. _

Coming out of the vision she finds her vision blurred by unshed tears.

Chris: Aun—I mean Phoebe? What'd you see?

Her response isn't words, but a bone crushing hug that sends a heap of concern rattling through all the hearts present in the room. Unsure what else to do, Chris holds her looking at Paige helplessly.

Paige: Pheebs, what'd you see?  
Phoebe: I think I just saw Chris die.

Moving on. Such a simple concept. Not such an easy thing to do when the answers to your future lie with your past.

**Want More?  
Review!**


	9. Fearless and Its Meaning

**Loosely based off episode Hulkus Pulkus. **

**Italic is taken directly from episode.**

**Hope you enjoy.**

**Reviews are always welcome**

Fearless. One word. Two syllables. Eight letters. The absence of fear? No. Being fearless isn't being impervious to fear. It isn't the absence but the strength to face those fears. Billie Jenkins has always been fearless, taking on the world with unwavering certainty. Seven words took the fearlessness right out of the blonde, leaving a paralyzing fear that makes her want to take him by the arm and flee to safety.

Billie: You think! That's probably something you want to be certain of Phoebe!

Billie had spent the greater part of the altercation between nephew and aunts in silence unsure of what to do but foretelling the death that the man she was falling head over heels in love with sent her straight out of her reserve. _How? Why? Where? When? _So many questions swirled around in her head that she felt she was free falling into a pit of nothingness.

Phoebe:(unable to pay attention to anything but Chris) You were so inconceivably broken and angry. And they, they were swarming. You shot lightning angrily. Furiously. Then then you glowed this bright light until that's all I saw. When it faded you were… oh God.  
Chris: It's okay, Pheebs.  
Paige & Billie: WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT'S OKAY!  
Chris: I mean, it won't happen. C'mon Phoebe. How many times have you seen Piper and Paige die? We cheat death, every day.

There is a truth to his words. Nobody could deny that the Charmed Ones have dodged more bullets then all the 007s combined. But Paige Matthews has seen her nephew die once and she'd be damned if she was witness to it a second time.

Paige: This is different.  
Chris: How's it different?  
Paige: Because.  
Chris: Because why?  
Paige: Because we've already lost you once!

Their voices rose as if trying to talk over each other until Paige screamed. Then there was silence. Chris new it wasn't easy. He'd seen far too many deaths in his life: deaths of loved ones, deaths of strangers, so much death. Despite himself, Chris casts aside his anger towards the sisters for a moment, closing the gap between him and Paige, wrapping her in a one armed hug.

Chris: (whispering) It's okay, Paige. You didn't lose me.

Paige pulls away, not leaving his embrace but enough to look him in the eyes.

Paige: Didn't we?

* * *

Chris: We are the masters of our fate.

He was talking to her through the mirror. She lingered by the door of the bathroom not exactly sure what to say. She was scared. The fear was so real she could practically taste it. He turns to face her leaning against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest.

Billie: This is serious. You could die.  
Chris: (smirking) Technically I'm already dead.  
Billie: (angrily) How can you joke about this?  
Chris: What other choice do we have, babe? Cry? Pout? Complain? Be Afraid?  
Billie: Yes! I mean, no… but—  
Chris: But nothing. I'm not going anywhere.

He says it with so much confidence, surrounding his words in the illusion of truth. Chris reaches out to lift her chin so she can see the seriousness in his eyes, the certainty.

Billie: How can you be so sure?  
Chris Because not even death and all its might could take me away from you.

Leaning he captures her lips in a soft, sweet kiss before wrapping her in his strong arms. Her arms wrap around his waist and head goes to his shoulder. For what feels like an eternity, he stands there holding her holding him. Finally she speaks.

Billie: Promise?  
Chris: Cross my heart and hope to… (Stops himself sloppily as she looks up at him) I mean, I promise.

* * *

Clad in black the young couple stood in the demon infested version of magic school searching one of the rooms for books pertaining to demons responsible for Christy's murder.

Chris: Anything?  
Billie: Nope, all the books are stuck in demon central and you know it.  
Chris: Then let's go get some.  
Billie: No! No way! Not gonna happen.

She didn't even want to risk him going to magic school in the first place. This was dangerous. Deadly even and with a dark premonition hanging over his head, Billie really didn't want to chance it but he insisted business as usual and '_if you're so concerned with my well-being it only makes sense you go where I go.'_

_Demon: Who are you?  
Billie: Me? Um I'm a student... here at magic school. Yah, you know. I musta gotten stuck in an astral plane or something. Did you guys possibly redecorate?_

_As the demon went to attack, Billie hip tosses him and presses the knife tightly to its throat. _

_Billie: Move and you're dead understand?  
Demon: Whataya want?  
Billie: What I want is to find the demon that killed my sister fifteen years ago but since you and your buddies trashed this place, I can't find the books that I need so you're going to have to find them for me. Her name is Christy… Christy Jenkins. Ask around. _We'll be back.

After a firm punch to the demon Billie makes it back to her feet and Chris walks over towards the demon. There's a smirk plastered on his face as he leans towards the demon and motions towards Billie.

Chris: Yeah, my baby's a badass.

* * *

The second Chris returned to "Calling Reception" he hears Paige screaming herself hoarse calling for him. With the roll of his eyes he orbed into the kitchen with Billie in tow. Paige's words from earlier had been mercilessly eating away at him. Had they? He wasn't their nephew or Piper's son. So what was he to them? He shakes himself from his thoughts when he sees Paige dealing with a fussy baby.

Billie: Cute kid. He yours?  
Chris: Wow, I knew I'd made some changes to the timeline but-  
Paige: Will you quit it. He's not mine. Henry dropped him off and-  
Chris: Wait, un- I mean- Henry dropped him off… as in Henry Mitchell.  
Paige: (eyeing him quizzically) Yah, you know him?

Technically he didn't. Not yet anyways. But Henry Mitchell, the hardened parole officer, was the man that taught him how to play basketball, catch, and a million other things a father should teach his son. For most of his childhood, Henry was the father to him that Leo didn't want to be. Traces of nostalgia linger on his face as he says words he certainly didn't want to say.

Chris: Nope. Well, not yet anyway.  
Paige: How well did you know him?  
Chris: Future consequences.

His old go to phrase slips off his lips so fluently that the usually annoying expression brings a smile to Paige's face. Chris reads her expression like he's reading her mind. However he's pulled from his thoughts when the demon, that was just Bruce Banner at Magic School now turned Hulk, appeared.

Chris lunges forward grabbing the baby from its carrier and orbs up to the nursery. Meanwhile Billie whips her trusty athame into his shoulder but he moves unaffected. With a backhand, he sends her flying into the wall, his nail catching her neck. As he begins his menacing approach Paige waves her hand and orbs him to magic school.

Chris: (Post Orbing): Everybody okay?  
Billie: Yeah, just a scratch but that was—  
Chris: The demon from magic school I know. (Pause) I'll go get Piper and Phoebe.  
Paige: Chris?  
Chris: Yeah?  
Paige: Just be careful.  
Chris: Sure thing Aunt Paige.

Disappearing in a shower of orbs the whitelighter is unaware or the significant splendor of emotion surging through Paige. He hadn't even realized what he said. Yet, both women in the room heard it… as clear as a bell. He called her Aunt Paige. For the first time in a long time Paige has hope that they didn't lose him after all.

* * *

Before Chris can fully reform into the office of Agent Murphy, he felt it, the thick animosity between the parties involved. He also feels how quick the emotions of Phoebe and Piper changed like the flick of a switch. For the briefest of moments Chris wonders if Phoebe told Piper of the possibility he'd die in the not too distant future but quickly writes it off when he sees her face. She's not deathly afraid. She's relieved he's there.

Piper: Chris, hey.  
Phoebe: Hey, is everything okay?  
Chris: Yeah, everything's fine. Except for the roided out Crycheck that just attacked the manor. That's a bit of an issue.  
Piper: (turning to Agent Murphy) Sure that's all you know?  
Chris: Wait this clown knows something about this?  
Agent Murphy: Who are you calling a clown? Actually, who are you?  
Chris: Wouldn't you like to know. (Turning to Phoebe) Did you read him to see if he's telling the truth?  
Phoebe: I don't know. I'm not exactly believing my visions now a days.  
Piper: Since when?

Chris felt any chance of saving Piper from worry vanishing. Piper Halliwell had had a rough month: finding out she forgot her son, her son refusing forgiveness, and now trying a new dynamic where he's present but keeping his distance. Finding out that he may not be long for this world is something Chris isn't exactly sure his mother could handle. Suddenly Paige's call eliminated the need for a response. He feels relief… when in all reality he should feel anything but.

* * *

Orbing into the manor, was like orbing into a war zone. Wreckage was evident and the second they appeared, they witness Paige crashing through a coffee table. Immediately Phoebe goes to her younger sister while Chris looks for the woman he loves. Stalking through the house in a manner that can only be described as menacing is an all knew hulked out creature. Chris extends his arm ready to fire when he hears his aunt's cry.

Paige: Chris don't! It's Billie.

His head whips in the direction of his aunt, eyes questioning in nature. How? What? When? Why? So many questions spiral through the man's head that he doesn't notice her rapidly approaching. As she lunges, Piper sees any second chance she has with her son evaporating along with any second chance he has at life. Her hands react blasting the young woman her son is head over heels in love with into the wall and rendering her unconscious.

Chris: (going to Billie's side) What the hell happened?  
Paige: We were getting Ramone a bottle and then she just transformed.  
Chris: Paige talk to the Elders. Tell them your charge is in danger. Phoebe look after Billie and at the slightest sign of movement, call for me. Piper c'mon.  
Piper: Where are we going?  
Chris: Talk to Agent Murphy. Your first Crycheck died. I'll be damned if I let the same happen to Billie.

Fearless. One word. Two syllables. Eight letters. The absence of fear? No. Being fearless isn't being impervious to fear. It isn't the absence but the strength to face those fears. Christopher Benjamin Hall has been fearful of his death since the moment it was predicted. He didn't want to die but suddenly that fear seems irrelevant. Because there's no fear he won't face, no lead he won't chase, if it means saving the woman he loves.

* * *

**A.N. Thus concludes another exciting installment of Identity Chrisis (no that's not a misspelling but a word play). Hope you enjoyed. Reviews are more than welcome. Definitely supply inspiration to update a.s.a.p. **

**-S.R. BOlin**


	10. Souls and Their Mates

Soul mate. Noun. Eight letters. Two words. Two syllables. Plato philosophized that once, a long, long time ago, all people had four legs and two heads. And then the gods threw down thunderbolts and split everyone into two. Each half then had two legs and one head. But the separation left both sides with a desperate yearning to be reunited because they each shared the same soul. And ever since then, all people spend their lives searching for the other half of their soul.

Christopher Benjamin Hall defied both time and space to find his other half. The sparks of a soul mate, the lightning preluded by the thunderbolt millennia ago, lie within the young couple and before it can truly thrive, they're in danger of being squandered… And that scares him because now he knows what it feels like beside her, the sheer brilliance of feeling complete.

He'll do anything to keep it…  
Anything.

Strong hands latch onto the jacket of the man he knew by the title of Agent Murphy. From behind he lifts him upright and slams him hard against the wall before relocating his grip to the man's throat. _Assault on a federal_ _officer_; not even minutes into his vow to do anything to save her and he's committing his first crime.

Chris: What aren't you telling us? (lets up on Murphy's throat a bit so he can speak)  
Murphy: Told you everything I've got.

Growing up in what was considered to be WWIII gave Chris a certain skill set added to his survival tactics and instincts. Reading body language was like a second language to him. This particular skill set and Agent Murphy's typical reactions all pointed to one thing. The man was lying. Unfortunately, neither have time for it. Chris's hands grip the agent's white button-down to pull him off the wall only to shove him back against it twice as hard as before.

Chris: You wanna keep playing games? Fine. How about we play a game of let's-see-how-long-you-can-hold-onto-the-window-sill-before-plummeting-thirteen-stories-to-your-death?  
Agent Murphy: (fear filled eyes aiming towards Piper) Piper?  
Piper: You're not telling us everything Agent Murphy and lives are on the line of both the evil and good persuasions.

Those famous magical hands known to pack a blast fly open and the desk lamp explodes. Agent Murphy's eyes widen and jaw drops to the floor at the sight, fearful that if he doesn't talk one of those blasts will be aimed his way. Unintentionally his gaze shifts towards the files on another desk on the other end of the room just for a second but in that second Chris realizes where his gaze went. Immediately he tosses the man forward into his desk and walks over to the spot where the files lie.

Chris: We've got what we need.  
Agent Murphy: You can't just burst in here and take what you want. This is a federal office.  
Piper: If you ever want us to work with you again, you'll forget this ever happened.

With a smirk, Chris turns to the woman that isn't his mother based on a technicality. For a moment the woman that raised him flashes before his eyes, the stubborn, strong, and all around super woman that he admired. The woman he was able to call mom and mean it whole heartedly. The moment she looks at him, Chris scoops up the files and holds his hand out for her to take. The mother happily obliges noticing he's looking at her for the first time in a long time and not just through her.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

They touchdown in the manor just as Phoebe began to call. Worried eyes shift towards the rapidly shaking form of the girl he loves. Casting the files into Piper's hands, he raced forward kneeling by Billie's side and holding her hand until she transformed back into the breathtakingly beautiful woman he adores. His eyes never leave her but his concern leads him to ask questions.

Chris: Paige what'd the elders say?  
Paige: It has no prejudice against good and evil, magical world is in a frenzy, just another day in the office.

Her tone betrays her words; what's intended to be confidently sarcastic words are oozing with fear and frustration. Gorgeous green eyes meet the brown ones of his aunt to confirm his suspicion. She's just as scared as he is. They all are. Unfortunately, Chris has no time for this fear or to console theirs. Lives are at stake and everything that he's been taught to do tells him to act.

Chris: You guys go through the files we borrowed from Agent Murphy's office and find me a Patient X. If I'm right that'll be the cure.  
Phoebe: But Chris-  
Chris: Just go! (Takes a moment to control himself) Just, please. We don't have much time.

As far as he's concerned the conversations over and to declare it, he turns his back to them and redirects his attention where he finds it needed. She's been his life raft through treacherous sea, the calm through his storm. Strong arms scoop her up and carry her to the couch. Gently, he sets her down and kneels by her side. Similar to the careful fashion of a man dealing with an ancient artifact, Chris brushes her hair out of her face.

It's peculiar to see her so weak, especially when he's never seen her as anything but the strong, fiercely independent woman that brought direction, beauty, and meaning back into his life. She woke him up, showed him what it meant to live, and now she's dying. How was that fair?

Chris: I spent an entire year left adrift in the dark never believing I could find my way back to the light. That is, until I came across this beautiful warrior of a woman that quite literally shocked me back to life… You saved me, Billie and I swear I'll do whatever it takes even if it means Phoebe's premonition comes true because I don't want to live in a world you're no longer a part of.  
Leo: What premonition?

A deer in the headlights expression takes over the whitelighter's features as he turns to the man he'd had a complicated relationship with. Actually until he came back to the past, he wouldn't even say they had one. But the fear that fills the man's eyes as a series of dark possible outcomes filled his eyes proves otherwise. Chris softly kisses Billie's forehead before making it to his feet and turning to Leo.

Chris: It's nothing.  
Leo: (Firmer) Chris, what premonition?  
Chris: Oh so now you care again? Jesus Christ man! You disown me, love me, forget me, and love me again. Hop off the merry-go-round and leave me the hell alone.  
Leo: I'm not going to leave you alone, Chris. Never again.  
Chris: Broken records tend to fall on deaf ears, _Father_.

He spoke, accentuating the name like an intended insult but the father never faltered in stance or expression knowing that his son would run if given half a chance. Instead he closes the gap refusing to show any hint of backing down.

Leo: What premonition, _Son?_

Tension boiled over and soaked the room in its hostility until one of its inhabitants snapped. Chris growls while extending thick hands forward until they clasp onto the older gentleman's shirt. Then quick feet and boiling rage propel both men backwards until Chris has him pinned. As he struggles under the whitelighter's grip, Leo flashes back to when roles were reversed. Chris's heavy breath on his face takes the man out of his reverie and gathers his undivided attention.

Chris: A vision of me doing what you'd do if that was Piper lying there fighting for her life; whatever it takes.

The sheer intensity of a man possessed in Chris's eyes brings clarity. The woman lying unconscious on the living room couch is Chris's Piper. She's the woman that makes him whole, just like Plato said. It holds the older man motionless, lost in the splendor that is love at its strongest. In fact, he's so lost that he didn't notice Chris release him from his grip or Piper making her way down the stairs.

Piper: Is everything okay down here?  
Chris: Yes ma'am. Leo and I were just getting reacquainted. Isn't that right, _Leo_?  
Leo: Yeah.  
Piper: Right… well Chris your aunts and I—mean we need you upstairs.

****

The musty smell of the attic hits his nostrils and nostalgia creeps up like a thief in the night. However, he's quick to bat it away. Now is no time for memories, no time for sentiment. Chris is about to dive deep into the rabbit hole of lies and deceptions, a place he's sworn to never go again. Of course, when he said he'd do anything for Billie, he did mean anything. Even this…

Chris leaps into the role of the neurotic nephew and the devoted son by helping out when asked, letting the four letter A word slip from time to time, and intentionally placing an accidental slip of the mom card. They're like putty in his hands and he hates how readily they get played but he has to. It'll save their lives in the long run.

Chris: So you found our Patient X.  
Phoebe: Yeah, I've got all his information right here.  
Chris: Alright, we'll head out just let me check on Billie.

Chris made sure to take the paper from Phoebe's hand before initiating the plan. He only hopes the plan doesn't get one of them killed… not by the demon but by Piper. As Piper reaches the top of the stairs he speaks loud enough to bust them.

Chris: Oh and about that premonition you had of me dying—  
Paige: Just be careful.  
Chris: I will. I just wanted to thank you for not telling Piper. She'd freak is she knew.  
Piper: You bet your ass I would!  
Paige & Phoebe: Piper!  
Piper: Chris, can I have a moment with my sisters.  
Chris: Sure, I'll be downstairs.

For a man working super hard to separate the women in this time from his family in his, he sure used future knowing to manipulate them. _'Maybe they aren't so different after all,'_ h e thought but quickly erased. Now isn't about him or the family. It's about Patient X. Unrolling the piece of paper he was handed, he reads the name and location. And before orbing off, he vows that he'll return with Patient X or in a body bag.

****

Nothing about the hallway in which he orbed into seems significant. From the tiled floor to the dim florescent lighting, the place looked like any other federal or office building in the world. Chris eyes set on the man that was in a lot of ways similar to the building; bland, timeworn, and unimpressive. But Chris sees past the Janitor's exterior and sees the man with the fate of the magical world on his man stares at the angel that came in a shower of white and blue orbs letting the broom slip from his hands and jaw drop.

Patient X: A-a- are you an angel?  
Chris: Technically but now I come to you as man asking for you to help save magic and the woman I'm falling madly in love with.  
Patient X: How can I help?  
Demon X: By giving me you blood.

Chris's attention snaps to the demon and his army that shimmered in behind him moments ago. Fluid motion pulls Patient X to the ground to dodge a sea of fireballs and extends his other hand to retaliate by hurling bolts out of his hand. From his position of the floor he grabs X's arm and tries to orb them back to the manor but gets a fireball to the ankle.

The two collapse in a heap a little further down the corridor and Chris turns back to the hulked out demons and their leaders with a look of shock. As if his physical injury isn't enough _her _puny voice hits his ears- the sign that she's slipping away and he can't keep her hanging on.

Billie: *soft feeble whisper* M'sorry Chris.

She'd been fighting it. He knew that struggle better than anyone- lying on some cushy piece of furniture trying to overcome that darkness that pulls at the corner of your vision, the grip on your throat that makes breathing next to impossible, and the blinding pain. Knowing she's even going through causes that heart in your throat feeling of dreadful misery. Heavy breaths come from a heaving chest as fireballs whiz past.

Swallowing the lump in his throat he whispers…

Chris: Just hang on Pretty Girl. Hang on.

It's as if her heartbeat pounds in his ears the fading sound unbearable. In an attempt to make different choices and warp the outcome, Chris brought himself to where he was meant to be. The warrior rounds the corner firing bolt after bolt with the sheer aggression of a final stand. Every nerve ending in his body feels as if it'll explode, the sheer intensity of raw power from the gods themselves.

_He sees Piper's goofy ear to ear grin when the M word slipped for the first time.  
He sees Leo calling him son and fighting for forgiveness.  
Then his mind flashes to pushing him out of the way of an arrow without the knowledge Paige'd be there to save her.  
Paige stands willing to slip her sister a love potion if it meant keeping him alive.  
Little Wyatt trusted him enough not to put up his shield and Melinda looking up at him with his green eyes.  
He doesn't see his life flash before his eyes. He sees his family just the way they are._

Charmed Ones: Chris!

Changing his fate, Chris's power surge came to a screeching halt. His fatigue ridden body falls to the ground face first. As the war wages on without him, beads of sweat poured from his pores matting his hair to his forehead and caused clothes to cling to his body. To even keep his eyes still open was a miracle in and of itself but he was still breathing. Thank God, he was still breathing. Green orbs momentarily disappear behind soft lids and when he opens them he's staring at a blurred figure hovering over him. After several blinks the woman's image becomes clear.

Chris: Mom?  
Piper: Yeah, it's me, Piper.  
Chris (grinning): A simple yes would suffice, mom.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Two vials of blood are in one of the whitelighter's hands while the very lovely, very alive woman he loves holds the other. Thanks to Piper's freezing and a very fearful Agent Murphy, she was saved. A smirk teases his lips as he stands before the Tribunal. This time he's the one with the tricks in his pockets and ace up his sleeve.

Chris: The virus going around has no prejudice; good and evil all targets. With so many in danger of contracting it, a cure is in great demand. Now I could go to the Elders with the cure and let the demons die… should save me a lot of trouble too. But if I give it to you, the virus will be extinct and both parties win.  
Demon: Why would you help the demons when it's your desire to destroy them?  
Billie: Selfish desires. We want the names of those responsible for my sister's death…  
Chris: And I want something that you've denied me for far too long. Whataya say? Deal or no deal?  
(after much discussion) Tribunal: Deal. What is it that you want Christopher?

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**Don't shoot!  
The cliff hanger ending isn't just to keep you on the edge of your seat and reading (though that is definitely a positive)  
It's to get you, the readers, more involved!  
It's not about what Chris wants… it's about what you want!  
Either next chapter could be the conclusion of the story and I can divert my attention elsewhere or do you want me to continue farther with this (maybe go into Billie's vengeance, Chris's battle and Chrillie! As well as MORE Charmed Ones)  
****The Choice is Yours. **


	11. Story Finale

**This is the final chapter of Identity Chrisis (don't kill me)  
I will be coming out with a new story shortly.  
Thanks for reading!**

Time. Noun. One word. Four Letters. One Syllable. Time is an enigma. It's fast and slow, short and eternal, free and priceless. If anyone's aware of this fact it's Christopher Halliwell- time's worst enemy. It always worked against him… until now, three weeks after his deal.

Christopher Halliwell lies on the beach blanket watching as the waves reached up onto the shore of the tropical uninhabited island half way around the world. The sun dips down beyond the horizon and he feels completely and undeniably happy, happier than he can ever remember. How could he not. He's got all he's ever wanted. The Tribunal gave him what he wanted, the woman he loves is with him, and everything is as it should be.

Billie: Have you ever seen anything more beautiful in your life?

Turning his head to the side, Chris watches as Billie crosses the beach towards him wearing a knee length, spaghetti strapped, white dress and her hair loose. In her hand is a bottle of champagne she got from the hut he'd made of bamboo and palm trees. His smile grows tenfold as she grows near.

Chris: Yeah, I'm looking at it right now actually. C'mere.

She sets the bottle on the blanket and cuddles up beside him. His eyes disappear behind soft lids and when they open she's smiling at him. The sun caresses her face making her seem more beautiful if it was at all possible. He whispers something in her ear and she playfully shoves him before settling back in his arms. She fits perfectly in his arms as they sit in silence soaking up the moment.

Billie: (after silence) I love you, Christopher Halliwell.  
Chris: (pulling his hand out of his pocket and taking hers.) I love you, too, Billie Jenkins… potentially Halliwell if you say yes.

Her eyes go to the hand he holds and widen as they take in the ring he slipped on her ring finger. The beautiful ring sparkles as bright as her eyes as they go back to his. Stretching up, she reaches his lips in a kiss that said it all. A jingle in his head interrupts the couple momentarily. Their kiss breaks and his eyes open slightly.

Chris: Mom's calling. They found Reinhardt.  
Billie: You in for some post proposal pandemonium?  
Chris: All in, Pretty Girl. Forever and always.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXx**

The familiar slightly musty scent of the Halliwell attic hits the couples nostrils as they enter his childhood home. He takes in the sight of his mother flipping through the book while bouncing his baby sister on her hip, Phoebe and Paige working on the potion at the table, and Leo and Wyatt sprawled across the floor playing with matchbox cars. His mother's voice brings his attention back to her.

Piper: There you are. *smiles*  
Chris: Yeah, sorry we're late, mom.  
Leo: How was the vacation?  
Chris: *looking at Billie with a smirk* Pretty good. We went snorkeling, surfing, rock climbing, skydiving, snowboarding…  
Billie:*Smiling back practically reading his mind* Shopping in Milan, sightseeing in Paris, boating in the Bahamas.  
Chris: Oh yeah, (mock thinking) and what was that last thing?  
Billie: Hmm… I believe we got engaged.

They say the words so coyly that the family takes a second to realize what they said. Four sets of eyes shoot up in sync to see Billie holding out her hand with a ring on her finger. Phoebe squeals, and races forward wrapping the two in a bone crushing hug. Congratulations and excitement erupts through the family circle. As the women fawn over the ring and details, the Halliwell men talk.

Leo: *to Wyatt* Can you tell your big brother congratulations.  
Wyatt: Congwratewation Kwiss  
Chris: (scooping up his little brother in his arms) Thanks Wyatt. (to his dad) Hey, I'm sorry… about what I said before. I didn't mean-  
Leo: Don't worry about it, Chris. Love makes us do crazy things.  
Chris: You could say that again, dad.

The man that was once an Elder smiled like a little boy on Christmas at his son calling him dad again and it only grew as he realized that what every parent dreams just came true for him. His son, Christopher Halliwell, is happy, healthy, and back with his family where he should be.

Leo: You never told me what you asked the Tribunal for.  
Chris: It's funny actually. I asked to be a Halliwell again and they told me it was already Halliwell blood in my veins. Then I asked to be your whitelighter. They granted my request and they didn't hesitate. I hazard to ask and they said all I did was speed up time because it was inevitable for me to return to my family because that's where my destiny is.  
Leo: Who'd of thought?  
Chris: (nodding over to Billie) she did.

Time. Time is an enigma. Nobody knows that better than Christopher Halliwell. The Tribunal had just given him the first key to his destiny and he knows it's him that must do the rest of the unlocking. We all get the same number of hours in a day but times teaches us all different lessons. For Chris the lesson is simple. Family is the one thing that defies time. Blood bonds don't break. Christopher is a HALLIWELL No matter the time.


End file.
